The Angry Library Aide
by AozoraNoShita
Summary: College AU, Romerica. Alfred hides in the library after a fight with his arch-nemesis. Lovino the Library Aide is not amused. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

AN: There are so many APH pairings it's hard to choose a favorite. Romerica is well on the way to becoming my OTP, though. Thanks in part to them being my two favorite characters, and also to Coffee-Flavored Fate for being a beastly writer. In the good sense of the word. Onwards~

* * *

**TALA 1  
**

First there was annoyance. Increasing steadily until it peaked at rage. There were words involved in there somewhere.

After—and during—the rage, there had been movement. Air rushing past his face, over his fists as he swung wildly.

Then suddenly. A violent fluctuation in the graph. The words stopped, the movement stopped, the rage disappeared.

Right. Because his opponent had punched him. In the mouth (so there went his shouted taunts, the words). He had stilled as he tried to take assessment of the damage (there went the movement as both he and his opponent-nemesis-jeez-that-guy-was-such-a-freaking -creep stopped dancing around each other and felt the red ooze slowly—or the other guy had just watched, not felt it, really, but the point was owshit_fuck_ he was _bleeding_).

Rage was replaced with disbelief. The other had actually managed to hit him. That must have been why—when the other said "Leave, now" so, _so_ condescendingly—he obeyed. He turned tail and left.

It seemed utterly unheroic, now that he looked back on it. And here he was, huddled between the shelves for mythology and linguistics at the college library. He held his hands to his face, trying to staunch the flow of blood from both his nose and his split lip simultaneously. The damn Russki had huge hands; he swore that punch had hit the entire lower half of his face.

He contemplated using some pages from a book to mop up the sticky liquid. As if on cue, a library aide showed up. He tried to sit still and not attract attention.

Ha. Like that ever worked.

The aide caught sight of him and squealed. It was an odd sound coming from a grown man.

"Hello," the crouching teen said. He moved his hand in a vague waving motion and attempted to smile around the red. Stupid red.

"The hell?" Aide exclaimed.

"Shh," the teen said reprovingly. "We're in a library." His speaking voice was just as loud as the other's exclamation.

"_You_ be quiet," Aide retorted, and turned with a huff to look at the books on the shelf nearest to him.

"My name's Alfred," the teen said as soon as it was clear he was being ignored.

"Good for you."

There was a silent pause.

"Do you have any tissues?" Alfred asked.

The aide began muttering angrily, but didn't answer him.

"Hello~? Mr. Angry Library Dude? Did you hear my question? I asked if you had—"

"I heard you the first time, stupid. Stop bothering me and go bleed somewhere else."

"But I'll get blood everywhere."

The aide finally turned and met his eyes again—critical and utterly unimpressed.

"So do you have any tissues?"

"No."

"Oh. That's okay."

Aide turned back to the shelf, and Alfred watched him for a bit. He wasn't actually doing anything, just fiddling with the books and not really organizing them.

"So what are you doing?" Alfred asked.

"Working. Obviously."

"No you're not."

"Shut up! Am so!" Aide's face got red; he was obviously feeling defensive. So he wasn't working.

"So what are _you _doing?" Aide asked, tone mocking Alfred's earlier question.

"Bleeding."

"Well I can see that."

"No you can't; you're not looking at me."

"Che palle, don't play dumb with me! You know what I meant!" Aide turned to look at him once more, completely disregarding the books now.

Alfred smiled at him. He finally caught a glimpse of the elusive name tag, pinned sideways and half-hidden under the collar of the uniform.

Gakuen College Library: LOVINO

Oh yeah, he would make an awesome secret agent.

"So what do you do when you actually _are _working?" Alfred asked.

"What do you think, moron? I work in a library."

"Well I can see that."

"You—!" Lovino made as if he were about to hit him with a book. Alfred stuck his hands up in preemptive defense—only to have Lovino pause and stare at him.

"That looks pretty bad," he murmured.

"Yep," responded Alfred cheerfully. "I think I lost a tooth!"

Lovino was still staring.

"Wanna help me look for it?" he offered. Lovino's lip curled as he leaned back slightly.

"Why in the hell would I do that?"

"Isn't it your job to help me find lost things?" Alfred grinned mischievously.

"I help the students find books! Not lost teeth!" Lovino looked genuinely horrified; Alfred laughed.

The aide waited for the laughter to subside before asking his next question. "Are you even a student here?"

"Nope. Do I look like I can afford a private college?"

Lovino seemed briefly taken aback. "Well," he said reluctantly. "No, I guess not. Sorry."

Alfred waved it off. "I'm happy you thought I might be a student here, actually. Mostly people accuse me of being a street rat or a Mongol or something."

"Might that be 'mongrel'?"

"Whatever. Plus I'm not actually old enough to be in college yet. So I look older than I actually am, huh? That's pretty cool."

"I guess, bastard."

"Bastard's a pretty common one, too! How did you know?"

"Idiot!" (Alfred decided Lovino looked awfully cute when he was flustered.) "Why are you even here, then?"

"I'm recuperating after an epic battle with my arch-nemesis."

"Che, more like hiding."

"Am not!" Alfred protests immediately. Lovino looks vaguely amused, a smile tempting his face for the first time.

"Why don't you just go home and 'recuperate' there? Away from the books. Which are easily stained."

"No way, you know you enjoy my company," Alfred said with a grin. (Lovino decided Alfred looked kind of handsome with such a smile. You know, for a _high schooler with a bloody face_.) "And you don't really care about the books."

Lovino scoffed, but didn't deny it.

"Besides—no home."

A shocked expression crosses the aide's face.

"Well! Better go look for my tooth! See you tomorrow, Lovi!" He ran out, blood finally stopped.

Lovino watched him go. "How did he know my—wait, tomorrow!"

* * *

AN: So, this was done as a prompt in my creative writing class. The conditions were 1) a college library, 2) a homeless kid, and 3) something lost.

I hope someone caught that one line from the English dub. And a brief Aladdin reference. Yeaaah.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I really love the Hetalia fandom. Rly. Thanks for the reviews, guys! I actually got numerous requests to continue, which made me flail about with glee and such. So! Here we go!

Hope it lives up to expectations.

* * *

**TALA 2  
**

"Ve~"

Lovino stared intently out at the classroom.

"Ve~~"

Was his eyebrow twitching? He swore he could feel it twitching.

"Ve~~~Romano~"

Lovino finally turned to face his brother.

"What." The expression on his face would have made flowers wilt. Unfortunately, Feliciano was not a flower, so he just stared back with his usual vapid smile.

Yes, Lovino decided. Feliciano was much more dense than a flower.

"Ve, Romano, would you mind watching the kids by yourself for a minute?"

"Fine, as long as it gets you away from me."

Feliciano giggled. "I love you, too, Romano! I'll be right back, I promise.

And he flounced out of the room. Fucking _flounced_. Seriously, he made Lovino's tomato plants look like some kind of genius science convention.

And speaking of science conventions—

Or science competitions, whatever—

"Don't you brats have a test to be working on?" Several curious faces ducked down to look back at their papers. Lovino glared at them for a moment more before he sat back in his chair with a huff. Stupid kids.

He glanced at his watch and called out, "Ten minutes until I'm out of this hellhole. Better be done by then." He got a few acknowledging nods, which he ignored in turn.

What a waste of a Saturday.

Briefly, his thoughts turn strayed back to the library, and that bright, teasing grin—

He slammed his hand down on the table, causing all the kids in the room to jump. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one team was standing next to him, papers clutched in their hands, expressions fearful.

"Can I help you with something?" he tried making his voice sound cheerful, more like Feliciano's. For some reason, this only seemed to terrify them further.

The group shoved one of their members out of the huddle towards him. Trembling, she held the completed test out to him.

"W-we finished," she stammered. Lovino eyed the test distastefully for a minute.

"Put it on the desk," he said, "and you can leave."

There was a sudden flurry of movement. Lovino blinked, startled, and opened his eyes to a completely empty classroom. A solitary sheet of paper blew by on a breeze that seemed to have magically started up inside the room just for the occasion.

He scoffed and eyed the messy heap of tests on the table in front of him.

Like hell was he straightening that out, it wasn't as if he was getting paid. Feliciano could do it when he got back. Speaking of stupid-cheerful-younger-brothers-who-actually-like d-cleaning-for-some-godforsaken-reason, where was that idiot?

Lovino stood and left the room, intent on telling off his brother. 'Right back' his foot.

A few minutes into his search, which mostly consisted of him wandering aimlessly through the halls of the earth science building muttering curses to himself, the halls were flooded with kids coming out of other events.

Lovino scowled at one group in matching neon yellow shirts as they scampered past him, giggling.

He hated kids. 'Kids' being anyone who was younger than him. And this stupid science competition that was being held on the university campus had brought out hordes of middle and high schoolers—and he was stuck supervising groups of them.

The halls were gradually clearing around him as the competitors headed to their next events. He almost sighed in relief. He wasn't needed for this one, which meant he had a bit of free time before—

"Hey! There you are!"

His heart skipped a beat. That voice. That ridiculously loud, over-energetic voice. It could be only one person.

"Alfred!" he hissed, turning and catching sight of the blond, who had somehow appeared right behind him.

Alfred grinned (there was that goddamned smile again) and opened his mouth to say something. Lovino quickly reached up (dammit, this kid was taller than he was!) and slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Quiet, idiot; they're doing stuff in these rooms!"

Alfred blinked at him from behind his glasses. Lovino noticed his eyes were an incredibly vibrant shade of blue.

Shit. He should not be noticing things like that, dammit.

He looked away in favor of dragging the other outside. There were a few volunteer parents, mostly moms, hovering on the lawn, but none sitting on the steps. Alfred promptly sat down on the top step, looking up at Lovino and patting the spot next to him. Lovino hesitated, then sat.

"I found you!" Alfred said as soon as he was sitting.

"Obviously."

"And you remembered my name!" For some reason, this seemed to absolutely thrill him.

Lovino snorted. "How could I forget? You practically yelled it at me after you invaded the library and bled all over the books." So maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Alfred just laughed, though.

"I was worried for a second when I couldn't find you there."

Lovino ignored the warmth that comment caused.

"I don't work at the library on Saturdays," he said instead. "Just Thursdays and Fridays. I could have told you that if you hadn't run off so fast yesterday. Idiot."

Alfred's head tilted to one side curiously. "Today's Saturday?"

"How could you not even know what day it is?" Lovino asked disbelievingly. "Yes it's Saturday!"

"Well, I don't actually have a calendar; usually I judge what day it is by the number and mood of the little kids running around. I guess whatever's going on here today threw me off."

"Che, idiot. Why would all these kids be on the _university _campus if it was a normal school day?"

"I dunno." Alfred shrugged unconcernedly.

"Idiot," he repeated. He eyed Alfred's face warily. "Does that hurt?"

"What, this?" Alfred poked at his bruised jaw. "Nah. I'm made of tougher stuff than that." He punched a fist into the air and announced loudly, "It'll take more than some freaky Russian to silence me! Haha!"

Lovino elbowed him in the side.

"Ow!"

"Quiet, idiot."

Alfred pouted. "Fine."

"Did you ever find your tooth?" Lovino asked after a moment.

"Oh yeah! Turns out I didn't lose it after all! It was just kinda hard to tell with all the blood in my mouth."

He laughed at the stricken expression on Lovino's face. Lovino tried to elbow him again, but Alfred foiled his attempt by shifting closer until their sides were touching and slinging an arm over his shoulders.

"Your face is red, Lovi."

"Sh-shut up!" The nickname didn't help with the red spreading across his cheeks.

Lovino decided some silent fuming was in order to show his displeasure. Of course, he thought as he glanced sideways at the cheerful blond, the other probably wouldn't even notice. Alfred turned and caught his gaze. He grinned, bringing Lovino's blush back full force and causing him to look away with a huff.

"So Lovi! What grade are you in?" Alfred asked. Dear God he was attempting small talk.

He grumbled a bit before answering. "I'm a sophomore."

"Cool! I guess I'd be a senior right now if I was still in high school. Have you declared a major yet?"

"No."

"Any ideas?" Alfred pushed.

"No," Lovino repeated a little more forcefully. Hopefully he would catch the hint—

"Well is there anything you're good at that you might wanna—"

"No!" he exploded. Alfred was silent until he got his breathing back under control. Normally he would have gone off on the kid, who apparently couldn't read the atmosphere to save his life. But the warm weight of the arm over his shoulders—

Shit. Do _not_ think about that! He'd only met Alfred yesterday!

Alfred must have felt his breathing hitch again, because he cautiously broke the silence, "Lovi…?"

Lovino took a deep breath, then sighed. "No. I'm not good at anything," he muttered. Alfred seemed to mull over this for a moment.

'Well, even if you totally such at everything, there's got to be something you're not quite as sucky at! What about classes?" Lovino stared. Why did he suddenly become so damn cheerful?

"Spanish, I guess," he answered reluctantly.

"And I'm sure you're better at it than a bunch of other people," Alfred said with a nod. "Take me, for example. I can't speak any foreign languages except for British."

"British isn't another language, moron."

"Sure it is!" Alfred exclaimed, gesturing excitedly at nothing with his other hand. "They have all kinds of strange words like, uh…bloody! Or wanker! Oh, or bloody wanker!"

Lovino frowned very deliberately to prevent a smile from showing. "You sound like the dean," he said, referring to the British dean of the college.

"What, that stuffy old man? No way, I'm too amazing to be like him!"

This time Lovino let himself smile; Alfred smiled back.

"Juggling," he blurted.

"Huh?"

"Something I'm good at," Lovino clarified. "I can juggle."

"No way!" Alfred exclaimed, eyes wide.

Lovino felt embarrassed at the admiration in his gaze. Really, the juggling thing had just slipped out; the only other person who knew about his hobby was Feliciano. Speaking of whom…

"That is so awesome, you have to show me that sometime—hey, are you looking for someone?"

"Yeah, my brother. He was supposed to be back a while ago." He didn't really feel like getting up (_not_ because having this idiot practically draped over him was comfortable, dammit!), so he peered around from where he was sitting.

"What does he look like? Maybe I can spot him."

"Like me," Lovino responded distractedly. "But with lighter hair. He's my twin, actually."

"Do you like having a twin? I have a brother, too, but he's older than me. People still mistake us for twins a lot, though."

Lovino tensed. There he was, across the lawn.

With the potato bastard.

"Whoa. You have this expression on your face like you're about to kill someone, Lovi." Alfred looked in the direction Lovino was. "Oh, is that your brother? Who's that with him?"

"His boyfriend," Lovino ground out. "I really hate that guy."

Alfred squinted. "That's…Ludwig, right? The German teacher's little brother?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?" he asked, surprised.

Alfred smiled sheepishly. "I hang around here a lot, actually. You're not the only one who's ever mistaken me for a college student."

Lovino's eyes narrowed at him for a moment before he looked back at his brother. "I see," was all he said.

"What's your brother's name?"

The question caused a small jolt of pain in his chest. Everyone was always so much more interested in his brother.

"Feliciano. Mostly everyone calls him Feli 'cause he's just so cute and bubbly and—ugh."

"So does everyone call you Lovi?" Alfred asked, either oblivious to or ignoring Lovino's disgruntlement.

"No. They call me Romano."

"What? How did they get Romano from Lovino?" He sounded genuinely curious, which was enough to distract Lovino from attempting to glare his brother and the potato bastard to death.

"My grandfather used to call me and Feliciano Romano and Veneziano. Don't ask me why, but Romano stuck for me. Even my brother calls me that."

"But…" Alfred seemed lost. "Romano has the exact same number of syllables as Lovino! Why—?"

"Didn't I just say not to ask?"

"Not much of a nickname," he muttered.

"Well, my Spanish teacher calls me Roma sometimes."

"Wait, _you're _Antonio's infamous 'adorable tomato'? _That_ Roma?"

Lovino gaped. "You know—? Wait, he's been talking about me?"

Alfred looked like he was struggling not to laugh. "Well, he may have mentioned something about you looking like a tomato when your face goes all red…"

Lovino wriggled around until he was able to kick out sideways and land a blow on Alfred's shin. Unfortunately, this only seemed to set him off laughing.

"I'll kill him!" Lovino fumed. "And then you—stop laughing, bastard!"

"Sorry, sorry." Alfred stopped laughing, but the corners of his mouth were still twitching with suppressed giggles.

Lovino scowled. "You'd better be."

He noticed Feliciano and Ludwig were approaching them. They must have noticed his outburst from all the way over there.

"Hm. Maybe I should go." The arm around his shoulder disappeared.

"…yeah." He did _not_ suddenly feel bereft, thank you very much.

"Um, Lovi?"

He looked away from the approaching couple and back at Alfred, who seemed nervous for some reason.

"Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?"

For some reason, Lovino blushed.

"I-I mean," Alfred continued, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and not meeting his gaze, "I really like talking to you, and, um…" Their eyes met. "Not a lot of people who know I'm homeless treat me normally. It's always talks about how I'm dealing or what my plans for the future are or do I need any help, or stuff like that. You don't seem like the coddling or nagging type, and it's nice talking to someone so...blunt. I mean, if you don't mind talking to me…"

Lovino paused. Finally he said, "Just because you're homeless doesn't mean you're any less of an idiot."

A blinding grin broke across Alfred's face, as if he'd just received a great compliment. He stood up quickly and lifted Lovino up in a tight hug.

"Yes! We're gonna be awesome friends!"

"Gah, don't say it like that, idiot! You sound too much like that potato bastard's brother and his weird Bad Touch Trio thing."

"You won't regret this, Lovi, I promise! Wait, you don't mind if I call you Lovi, do you? I think it sounds better than Romano."

"I don't mind." He let himself smile for a moment before he realized he was standing there on the steps, seemingly wrapped in an embrace with Alfred. The volunteer moms, who he'd forgotten about until that moment, were giggling like mad.

Blushing (he seemed to be doing that a lot around Alfred—the bastard; this could _not_ be healthy), he shoved the taller boy away.

"I have altar serving in the morning, and like hell am I giving up my siesta. I'll meet you in front of the library at 3:30, okay?"

He heard Feliciano and his boyfriend stop at the bottom of the steps, but he was focused solely on Alfred's (ridiculously) blue eyes.

"Sure!" Alfred beamed. He reached out, dragged him in for another hug, then released him and dashed off. "Bye Lovi!" he called over his shoulder. "Bye Feliciano and Ludwig!"

And then he was gone.

"Who was that, Romano~?" Lovino jumped as Feliciano spoke from behind him.

He turned and scowled at them. "None of your business."

Ludwig was frowning sternly, as usual. Honestly, what did Feliciano see in him? "Was he bothering you? I've seen him around before. I think he's a loiterer or some such sort; I'm surprised the campus police don't—"

"What do _you_ know?" Lovino interrupted, feeling defensive. He stalked away before the potato bastard could say anything else, heading back into the building.

"Don't worry, Ludwig. I'm sure Romano knew you were only concerned~"

Fine, let his brother stay behind with the kraut. Now that they couldn't see his face, he felt a wide smile forming on his lips.

He'd made a friend. Someone who wasn't scared off when he ranted, who actually wanted to talk to him, to spend time with him. He didn't prefer Feliciano over him, _and_—

Alfred called him Lovi.

* * *

A/N: Whoo! It's considerably longer than the first one, huh?

Anyways. Lovi doesn't seem to realize he's hugging a homeless person. There will be an explanation of Alfred's situation later, though, because it looks like this is about to be multi-chaptered. Thanks again for the support, everyone.

I know my writing is dialogue heavy, and as a result most of my 'action' is eye movements and smiling. Is this grating, or no? Also, I took some liberties with the characters' ages, plus the Italian bros names. Is this name/nickname situation confusing? How about suggestions for nicknames for Ludwig (from both Feli and Lovi?)

All reviews are appreciated, especially with ideas or concrit, and especially especially with praise. I'm glad it's enjoyable. Romerica FTW~


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Wah, I've left this for too long. I feel bad for not updating, but senior Lyceum is killing me. Killing me dead. I decided to just post what I have, though it may not be as long as usual…hopefully it's still okay. My sister said it was cute, which I guess is a good thing? Thanks especially to Kuraitsuki Tukiko and Earth Coyote for leaving reviews recently and reminding me I needed to update this.

I need a new muse, yo.

* * *

**TALA 3  
**

Lovino stumbled into the dorm room's small kitchenette, rubbing blearily at his eyes.

Shit. Why was he up so early? He usually didn't wake up from his siesta until five, and here it was only…he checked the clock.

Three fucking thirty. _Christ_.

He'd gotten back from church around one, eaten a moderate-sized lunch, and headed straight to bed. But then he'd tossed and turned for half an hour, despite being exhausted and having the comfortable mattress he'd brought from home. When he'd finally fallen asleep, it was still restless. He remembered waking up several times from vague nightmares.

All of these, he realized, were usually symptoms of trying to sleep when he knew he had something important to do. Whether he was procrastinating or had just forgotten, he would be plagued with dreams about the assignment or test or whatever it was.

He started the coffeepot (so what if it was afternoon? He'd just woken up. He needed coffee, dammit, and he could make it a help of a lot better than any campus coffee shop) and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. He knew he didn't have any assignments—unlike his scatterbrained brother, he kept a planner and regularly updated his To-Do list. He'd already done the homework that his professors would bother asking for, and crossed off the stuff he could get away with not doing (What? Just because he kept a planner didn't mean he actually did the work).

So what was he forgetting?

The coffeemaker binged just as he remembered.

"Shit!" he screeched. There was an answering scream from the bedroom area. He dashed to his bunk.

"Romano?" Feliciano asked nervously, half cowering under the bed sheets. "What's going on? Why did you scream?"

"I'm goddamned freaking late! Ugh, that bastard!" He started changing rapidly.

"Who?" His brother emerged slightly. "Are you going somewhere, Romano?"

"Yeah. _Now_." He pulled his shoes on and checked his reflection in the mirror. Slightly disheveled, but he made it look intentional. He tried to flatten his hair down a bit before he realized exactly what he was doing. He scowled. I _am _not _trying to look good for some homeless kid. If anything he should make me look good by comparison._

Then he remembered…Alfred was pretty damn good-looking for a homeless person (though not to Lovino, obviously). Maybe Feliciano was on to something with the blond hair blue eyes combo (not that Lovino had been paying attention to Alfred's looks, obviously). But Alfred had a much better personality than the kraut (not that Lovino would ever consider Alfred boyfriend material, obviously).

And this was _not _a date.

Obviously.

And that was a good thing.

…obviously.

He let out another frustrated groan.

"Romano? You've been staring at the mirror for a while now…"

Snapping out of his stupor, Lovino grabbed his cell phone and checked the time. 3:42. It usually took at least ten minutes to get to the library, but that was because he walked as slowly as possible, reluctant to go to work. But if he ran…

Feliciano called out, "Bye, Romano! Have fun on your date!" as he hurtled out the door.

"It's not a date!" Lovino screamed back, because it _wasn't_—and what did Feliciano know, anyway? He ignored the giggling that followed after him.

* * *

Lovino had almost made it to the meeting place (in a record four minutes) when he suddenly felt as if he'd run into a railing. Rather than a metal pole, however, he found he'd been stopped by and arm stretched out to catch him around the middle.

Lovino wheezed a bit at the abrupt halt, glaring at the offending arm and following it back up—shoulder, neck, face.

Oh great. Bonnefoy, the French teacher.

"And where are you going in such a hurry, little Romano?"

Lovino pried at Bonnefoy's arm, struggling to free himself. The Frenchman let go, only to reposition his arm around Lovino's shoulders, instead.

"Must be an important meeting if you are so eager to get away from _moi_, hm?" His face lit up with a malicious kind of glee. Lovino paled at the expression. "Perhaps you are on your way to see a _paramour_~? You must take your big brother Francis to meet the lucky lady!"

"It's nothing like that! And I'm already late so let _go_ you stupid—"

Bonnefoy cut him off with that annoying "ohonhonhon" laugh of his.

"Of course it is not a date, _mon ami_," he said patronizingly.

Lovino stomped on the professor's foot. "It's not!" he insisted. "Get lost, you fucking pervert."

"Ah, so cruel." Bonnefoy was wincing a bit as he finally relinquished his grip, much to Lovino's satisfaction.

He straightened his clothes a bit and set off at a brisk walk towards the library—somehow running with Bonnefoy watching seemed undignified. Plus he could imagine the older man leering after him like the creeper he was. But then—horror of horrors—he realized Bonnefoy was following him.

Lovino checked his watch, 3:47, and saw _damn _he'd made good time, but he was still late and definitely didn't have time to try and lose Bonnefoy.

So, scowling, he ignored the perverted presence behind him and kept going.

The library finally came into view at 3:49.

_Nineteen minutes_…_that wasn't so late, right_? Shit, he hoped the idiot was still here. He scanned the outside of the building anxiously, searching—there! Sitting on the steps, right near the bottom on the left side of the entrance.

"Oh, there's Alfred," Bonnefoy murmured behind him. Lovino turned sharply to look at him.

"You know Alfred?"

"But of course." The professor paused. "…His brother is one of my best students."

"His bro—?" Oh wait, Alfred had mentioned a brother. An older one, who looked a lot like him. So much so that they were mistaken for twins. "Wait, his brother is a _student_? How—?"

"I think a better question," Bonnefoy cut him off with a suggestive smile, "is how _you_ know him? Is Alfred the mysterious date you are rendezvousing with~?"

Lovino colored. "It's not a fucking date!"

Bonnefoy's smile only widened, and he started giggling just like Feliciano had. Lovino resisted the desire to punch him in the mouth. Professors should not be allowed to behave like this, dammit; it was harassment. As he was suppressing his violent urges, Bonnefoy brushed past him and sauntered straight up to Alfred. Lovino watched as Alfred looked up and greeted the man with a smile. They started speaking, though he couldn't hear what they were talking about.

Bonnefoy looked concerned, while Alfred kept shaking his head, smile growing smaller and smaller until it was replaced with a frown. _They do know each other_, Lovino realized. _Bonnefoy knows. That Alfred is homeless_.

For some reason, this pissed him off. _The idiot should be smiling, dammit._

"Oi, bastard!" he called out, approaching the two. Alfred started and met his gaze—and immediately a huge grin broke out across his face (_much better_).

"Lovi!" he answered, as if he hadn't been called by an expletive.

Bonnefoy was suddenly all smiles again. " 'Lovi' is it?" he asked. "What a cute nickname~"

"Isn't it?" Alfred replied cheerfully.

Lovino flushed and scowled. "Go away, pervert, you weren't invited."

"Of course, of course. I do not want to interrupt your date."

"It's not—" Lovino started, then gave up and slapped his hand over his face in an attempt to hide his persistent blush.

"We're just friends, Francis, really," Alfred said with a laugh. "I mean, we haven't even known each other that long."

"Is that so? Still, you have great potential!"

"Potential?" Lovino ventured, fairly certain he was not going to like what Bonnefoy was implying.

"To be lovers, of course! Ohonhon~"

"Okay, that's it. Leave now, you pervert, before I kick you in the balls. That's the only warning you're going to get."

Bonnefoy immediately started backing away, but that lecherous grin was still there.

"Alfred, _mon cher_, if you never remember anything I've taught you, at least remember to take your date somewhere nicer than those fast food places you frequent, _oui_?" With a wink, he left.

Lovino stared after him, feeling vaguely violated, until he heard Alfred mutter, "I wasn't planning on fast food, jeez. Have a little faith, Francis." Seeing the expression on Lovino's face, he added hastily, "I mean, I know it's not a date, but—"

"You call him Francis?" he interrupted. Alfred blinked.

"Um, yeah?"

"And he lets you?"

"Sure. It's not like I'm one of his students or anything so I don't have to call him Professor."

Lovino snorted. "I don't call him Professor, either, but I definitely don't call him by his first name."

Alfred stood up, brushing at the seat of his jeans. "Why don't you call him Professor?"

"Because he's creepy and a sex offender and doesn't deserve being called by a respected title."

This seemed to amuse Alfred. "Aw, he's not that bad. And I'm pretty sure he's not a sex offender."

"Like I believe that. Where are we going, anyway?"

Alfred pointed towards the center of campus. "I was thinking that coffee place in the student center. They take cash, right?"

"Yeah, they do," Lovino confirmed. "Well good, because I left my coffee behind when I ran out of my dorm to come here. Dammit, I hope Feliciano thinks to turn the pot off. Hang on."

They started walking towards the student center, side by side. Alfred hummed inanely as he waited for Lovino to send his brother a text message about the coffeepot.

"I thought maybe you weren't coming," Alfred said when he stuck his phone back in his pocket.

"Not…? Oh, that. Um." He suddenly felt guilty. The reason he's been late was that he'd flat out forgotten they were meeting, but of course he couldn't say that. "Well I cut it pretty close when I left," he explained (_understatement_), "and then I got stopped by Bonnefoy, so yeah, I was late. Sorry."

"No worries! It was only like ten minutes or something."

Ten? More like twenty.

"I asked someone for the time a little bit before you showed up, and they said that it was 3:40," Alfred explained further at Lovino's confused expression.

Either that person's watch was wrong or Alfred had a lousy sense of time keeping. Whatever, it worked out for Lovino.

"Oh. Well here I am."

"Yep!" Alfred beamed, like it was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. This made Lovino's stomach feel a little funny, so he looked away.

"Of course, the coffee there is not that great. Cheap crap made by incompetent idiots," he muttered.

"Is it really that bad?" Alfred looked worried. Several things suddenly clicked into place in Lovino's mind, making him want to bang his head against a wall.

Alfred was _homeless_. Bonnefoy's mention of fast food and the fact that Alfred wanted to make sure the place took cash…

"Well no," he amended, trying not to be too obvious. "It's decent. But I'm Italian."

This made the blond smile again. "And Italians are super picky when it comes to coffee? I thought that was just a stereotype."

Lovino schooled his face into a serious expression. "You haven't lived until you've had coffee made by an Italian."

Alfred laughed, and Lovino decided that whatever that persistent fluttering feeling in his stomach was would not be going away any time soon, and he should just try and enjoy this not-date as much as he could in spite of it.

* * *

Cheap coffee, it turned out, wasn't so bad when someone else was there drinking it with him. When Alfred was there, to be more specific.

Lovino had never been much of a people person, and he hadn't understood what was so great about it anyway, but spending time with a friend like this was just…really nice.

And he'd learned some things about Alfred, as well. Mostly small details, such as the fact that the blond hated tea with a passion. Alfred had actually babbled on for ten minutes, very loudly, about why tea was so gross, insulting all the tea drinkers in the shop and earning their table several dirty looks. Lovino had to hide his smile by drinking more of the cheap coffee.

Alfred would occasionally offer information about himself like that—completely out of the blue and with no concern with whether it was serious or not. For instance, when Lovino had commented on the blue Transformers T-shirt he was wearing, Alfred had proudly declared it was his favorite out of the three shirts he owned; he also had a red Doctor Who shirt and a plain white T. Because "red, white and blue are the best colors ever!" according to Alfred.

When Lovino asked where he kept his other possessions, Alfred had hedged and said, "In a bag, Lovi, duh," and changed the subject. It seemed he had no problem volunteering that kind of fact, but didn't like being asked questions.

Which was just fine by Lovino, of course; the idiot seemed to be doing well enough. He at least had enough money to spare on coffee.

Lovino also found himself talking about his own life. Alfred was a surprisingly good listener, which was nice since most people told him to calm down and stop ranting. He wasn't RANTING, though—not all the time at least—he was just very passionate about things. And, okay, maybe he was kind of easily excitable. That was fine, too, because so was Alfred.

When Lovino had mentioned his random fascination with Swedish music, Alfred had gasped dramatically. The entire store and probably all the patrons sitting outside, as well, must have heard his exuberant, "Me too!" and they had proceeded to have a very loud debate over the merits of classic ABBA versus newer musicians like Nanne Gronvall and Movits! Alfred had flashed him a mischievous grin which, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, had to be one of the most attractive facial expressions he'd ever seen on anybody. But then the idiot had said the word 'Caramell' and Lovino was forced to try and kill the (attractive) bastard with a paper napkin—for the good of humanity.

It was the most fun he'd had in a long time.

Somehow they ended up spending two hours there. It was almost six when Feliciano called, crying about the coffeepot, which had somehow managed to explode while he was gone. Alfred had been able to hear his brother's loud wailing, and jerked his head towards the door with a questioning expression. Lovino nodded, simultaneously standing and trying to calm Feliciano down over the phone. He didn't want to leave, but God knows Feliciano would probably hurt himself somehow if he didn't get back soon.

"I told you to turn it off," he complained. "Didn't you read your texts?

"Ve, well, no…Ludwig came over so I didn't think to…"

"You invited that bastard into our dorm room!"

He heard a telltale laugh from beside him and reached out without looking to shove Alfred sideways. Annoyingly, it didn't seem to have much effect. Even more annoying was the fact that Alfred's bicep, where his hand had landed for said shoving attempt, felt really nice. He tried to refocus on Feliciano, and not the blond boy walking beside him.

Feliciano started on a fresh round of tearful apologies, causing Lovino to pull his phone away from his ear as he waited for a break.

"You don't have to walk me back, you know," he muttered to Alfred. The other just grinned in return.

"It's no problem, Lovi. Besides, I don't have anywhere else I'd rather be."

Lovino blushed. _He was making a reference to being homeless_, he told himself, _not saying he really wants to be near me. It was self-deprecating humor, not a love confession, dammit._

He picked up his pace a little bit, seeing his dorm come into view with the campus police parked out front.

"I'll be there in a second, _fratello_, just _calm down_," he said, and snapped his phone shut.

"Hey Lovi," Alfred said from behind him. He turned, surprised, to see that the younger man had stopped a few feet back.

"So I couldn't help overhearing…"

Lovino snorted.

"…your coffeemaker is broken?"

"Yeah. Completely kaput. Should've known better than to trust Feliciano to turn it off."

"I guess that means you'll need to get coffee from somewhere else for a while, huh? Until you get a new one?"

Lovino had a feeling he knew where this was going. And it was kind of a nice feeling.

"I guess so," he confirmed.

"I know university coffee shops aren't up to Italian standards and all, but I was thinking we could get some…together. Sometime. Sometimes."

And fuck if Alfred didn't look all adorable and hopeful like that and aaaaaaargh. Those big blue eyes could end up being the death of him.

"Sounds good," he said.

"Great!" Alfred was beaming again. This time when he moved forward, Lovino was expecting it; as Alfred caught him up in a huge hug, he cautiously hugged back.

And it was really nice. Shiiiiiiit. _Come on! You've only met with him three times!_

"All right, bastard, let go of me. I gotta go check on Feliciano."

"'Kay!"

Alfred released him and, with one more smile, left.

Lovino stood, eyes closed and breathing deeply, trying to calm himself.

Like that ever worked.

"Goddammit!" he screeched. Then he turned and headed for the dorm.

* * *

That night, Lovino tossed and turned just as he had that afternoon. He was in trouble. Even more trouble than he'd already been in. Somehow he'd gotten the blame for the coffeemaker explosion (so what if he was technically the one who'd left it on? He'd _told_ Feliciano to turn the damn thing off). Needless to say, the campus police were not pleased when they evacuated the building only to find the remains of an Italian coffeemaker rather than a bomb, as the noise had led them to believe it was. The other students living in the dorm weren't thrilled, either.

Luckily there wasn't any damage to the room itself, but the dean was sure to have heard about it by the next day, which meant more uncomfortable meetings and angry reprimands in his office. Fuck, like he didn't already have enough to deal with.

But that wasn't the only reason he was in trouble. Oh no.

_I find Alfred attractive. I find him ridiculously attractive. Worse, he actually seems to like me._

Truth be told, Lovino didn't interact with many people on a daily basis. There was his brother, some of the professors, and the dean…but nobody like Alfred, who he could just hang out with (his brother was seemingly attached at the hip to the potato bastard—the traitor).

So yeah, Alfred was attractive and really nice but _fuck_ he couldn't just fall for the first guy to pay a bit of attention to him, that would just be…

Pathetic.

Lovino contemplated trying to smother himself with his pillow. God, he _was_ pathetic. _Alfred wouldn't think so_, a sly voice in the back of his mind told him. _He'd probably say you're amazing, and I bet he'd be sad if you tried to suffocate yourself_. Lovino opted to throw his pillow at the opposite wall with a frustrated growl.

Okay. So maybe he was starting to get a teeny tiny crush on Alfred. No big deal. He could handle it. Alfred was three years younger and homeless; no way would he let himself fall seriously for someone like that.

_You barely know him you barely know him you barely know him_, he chanted in his head. The problem was, he felt like he did know Alfred. _Damn friendly idiot_.

"But I _don't_ know him," he groaned, aloud this time. He heard Feliciano shift in the bunk below him at the noise. Oops.

Lovino rolled over and pulled the blanket up over his head.

He remembered earlier, when Francis had seen Alfred. He'd realized that the French teacher's teasing was actually a deflection—and a very successful one, at that. So how _did_ those two know each other?

"I don't know him," he repeated in a whisper to the dark space under the covers.

* * *

A/N: Ended on a bit of a low note there, but no worries. It seems like every chapter I write I end up putting in things I'll need to explain later. I actually am keeping a list…it includes things like who Ivan is, why Lovino seems to know the dean so well, and of course Alfred's backstory…

Also, Lovino's statement about Italian-made coffee? Totally true. It is heavenly.

And about the Swedish music. I'm sure everyone is familiar with ABBA, but Nanne Gronvall was the singer of the 2005 Melodifestoven entry which I love with a passion. It gained some fame in the anime fandoms when it was used in an award-winning AMV for Princess Tutu. Seriously, go look up "Håll om mig" and tell me that's not epic. Also, the Movits! were featured on the Colbert Report. I recommend "Äppelknyckarjazz" and "Fel del av gården." Caramell is the band who originally made "Caramelldansen." Yeah.

Plus, if you like some North American brothers, go read everything by Positively. It's amazing.


	4. Chapter 4

**9/8/13**: Corrected the translations!

Original A/N: Also, I just want to be clear that Gakuen College, even though I may call it a university, is a private school—i.e., really expensive.

Anyway, does anyone have suggestions for characters they want to see? I've got America, the Italies, Germany, France, and Russia…plus Prussia, Switzerland and England make an appearance this chapter. There's some upcoming Spain and Canada, and imminent Seychelles, Sealand, Finland, and Sweden. There are just so many possibilities.

Onwards~

* * *

**TALA 4**

It was a Monday, which of course meant it was a sucky day. A fuck-it-all-I-wish-I'd-stayed-in-bed-this-morning day. Seriously, what had he been thinking when he'd gotten up? He'd barely managed any sleep, yet still he'd answered the call of the alarm clock like some kind of mind-controlled zombie. What he _should_ have done, Lovino realized, was sent the damn thing to electronics hell along with the coffeepot and smashed it to pieces.

Plus, he couldn't make any coffee. Definitely should have stayed in bed.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

Lovino was currently sitting at a desk in the back of the German classroom, head buried in his arms. Class was over; however, the torture had not ended. As evidenced by the fact that there was _a fucking chick roosting in his hair_.

"Fuck," he muttered once more for good measure.

"Hey! Gilbird does not appreciate such un-awesome language."

Lovino attempted to ignore this voice, but knew it was a lost cause since the owner of said voice was _so freaking loud_.

"If you're gonna swear, do it in _Deutsch_! Here, repeat after me: _Gottverdammt_!"

"Like hell," Lovino snarled, lifting his head, "am I ever going to speak your disgusting language. _Bastardo_."

Gleeful red eyes met his. "Come on, it's not that different from what you speak every day. English is a Germanic language, after all," the German professor said.

Lovino snorted. "At least it redeems itself by having _some _Romantic components. Unlike your ugly _Tedesco_. And get this bird off of me, Beillschmidt."

"Only if you tell me what you're doing in this room when you don't even take my class."

Lovino mumbled something unintelligible.

"What was that? The awesome me couldn't hear you."

"I said, I'm skipping Antonio's class."

"Oh, 'Antonio' is it? What'd you do this time? I know you only call him that when you feel guilty." He plucked Gilbird from Lovino's hair.

"…do not."

Beillschmidt just smirked at him.

"All right, fine, I'm in trouble. Again. There was an incident with a coffeepot and my idiot brother and Dean Kirkland probably sent someone to get me from the Spanish room and Antonio always gives me that fucking disappointed look. So I'm hiding in here."

"Kesesese, you realize they'll just come and fetch you from here, right?"

"Why would they look here? Everybody knows I hate your stupid language."

"Because," the professor pointed out, "the only other person who'd willingly let you hide out in their room is Francis."

"_Shit_."

"Oi, watch your language!" another voice chimed in angrily.

The new arrival stood in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring. It was the…actually, Lovino didn't know what the guy's position was. He was basically the _de facto_ manager of the entire college. He handled just about every aspect of the college's finances and business.

"Hello Mr. Zwingli," Lovino sighed defeatedly.

"Hey Vash," Beillschmidt greeted cheerfully, sending Lovino an I-told-you-so grin.

"Don't think you can address me so casually, Beillschmidt," Zwingli snapped. "Vargas, the dean wants to see you."

"Kirkland got you running around like an errand boy again, huh?"

Zwingli glowered but didn't answer the obnoxious professor. Instead he motioned impatiently at Lovino to come out into the hallway.

"Have fun," snickered Beillschmidt. Lovino flicked him off as he grabbed his bag and left

"I don't know what you did yesterday," Zwingli said, setting off at a brisk walk towards the main administrative building as soon as Lovino joined him. "I don't even want to know. This is a complete waste of my time."

"Sure, whatever."

Zwingli rounded on him. "Don't make light of it! Getting in trouble all the time—you're lucky you're still allowed on campus. If it weren't for your grandfather you'd have been expelled already."

"Shut up!" Lovino shoved Zwingli away from him and glared. "I can find my way just fine from here, thanks," he ground out.

Zwingli regarded him coolly, seemingly unfazed by his outburst.

"See that you actually get there," he said finally before he turned on his heel and walked off.

Seething, Lovino headed for the dean's office.

* * *

"Don't even start, boy," the dean said as soon as he walked in.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lovino asked, sitting in his usual chair in front of Kirkland's large oak desk.

"It means don't even try to pin this on that Ludwig bloke."

Lovino snorted but didn't deny he'd considered the idea.

Kirkland was leaning back in his seat, one hand on the armrest and the other pinching the bridge of his nose. Privately, Lovino thought he had no business looking so put-upon—it wasn't like he did any of the hard work running the place himself; that was all Zwingli.

After a few minutes of silence, the Italian student decided he might as well get this over with. "Well?" he asked. "Are you going to yell at me or what?"

Kirkland's hand finally moved away from his face, and Lovino found himself the subject of some very intense scrutiny by a pair of bright green eyes.

"What," the dean said slowly, "am I going to do with you?"

"Letting me leave would be a good start."

Kirkland slammed his hand down on the desk. Shit, now he was angry.

"Let you go? You should already be _expelled_, Lovino Vargas! The only reason you were allowed to stay here after _that incident_ is because Professor Carriedo vouched for you and because of your late grandfather's role in founding this establishment!"

_Why does everybody always bring that bastard up?_

"As if my grandfather ever cared jack shit for me!" he yelled back. "I'd rather be expelled than be here on his fucking reputation!"

"Don't talk about your betters that way you ungrateful—!"

"_My betters_?" Lovino screeched, jumping to his feet, fists clenched.

Kirkland stood up, as well, eyes flashing dangerously. "This kind of behavior, he said, "is exactly why you were almost expelled. Violence, disruptions, vandalism, disrespect—"

"As if any of those people are worth respecting—"

"_You almost killed those two students_."

Lovino was struck silent.

"You beat them within inches of their lives. You are lucky you weren't _arrested_, much less kicked out of school."

"Then why. Am I. Still. Here," Lovino hissed.

Kirkland's expression changed from one of fury to one of sadness and…guilt? "Because I think," he said softly, slowly sitting back down, "that everyone should have a chance. To go to college. To learn. To belong somewhere, instead of being out on the street…"

Lovino was about to call him on the cliché sappiness of that statement, when something clicked. "You mean like Alfred?" he asked.

Kirkland's eyes hardened again. "Get out," he said.

It was a tone that brooked no argument. Lovino picked his bag up and fled.

* * *

On the plus side, Lovino mused as he added another book to the stack in his arms, he hadn't gotten yelled at about the coffeepot thing. On the other hand, the whole almost-killing-two-people thing had come up. And there had still been a lot of yelling.

But, and he was still not sure whether this was a good or bad thing, he'd found out that the dean knew Alfred.

_Seriously, does everyone on this campus know him?_

After the meeting in Kirkland's office, Lovino had reported back to the German classroom for his mandatory two hours of work as a teacher's aide.

This was a result of _that incident_: Monday through Wednesday he had to work after class running errands for the language department (German on Monday, French on Tuesday, Spanish on Wednesday); Thursdays and Fridays it was two hours as a library aide. He often had to work odd jobs on the weekends, too, like that science competition he'd had to proctor for. It was kind of a probationary measure; supposedly it would keep him occupied so he couldn't start any more fights.

And of course, Beillschmidt _would_ send him back to the library to pick up some German books (why did he even need them? He was already fluent in the goddamned language). Several people who were used to seeing him work there had already asked for help finding things, only for him to snarl back that he wasn't working today, dammit.

He grabbed one more book and turned to leave.

"Lovi?"

_No way_, Lovino thought. _That can't be him_. _It'd be way too fucking convenient_.

But there he was, standing at the end of the aisle in all his blond glory—Alfred. He seemed surprised to see Lovino there and, for some reason, his hands were behind his back.

"Alfred," he greeted, despite his suddenly rather dry mouth.

"I thought you said you only worked here on Thursdays and Fridays?" Alfred asked, moving closer. Lovino resisted the urge to take a step back for every one the other took forward.

"That's right. I'm picking up some stuff for Beillschmidt today." He was treated to another glimpse of that amused (gorgeous) smile.

"Last name only, huh? I guess Gil's another professor not worthy of the title?"

"Damn straight."_ He knows the German professor, too_?

"Hey, check it out—isn't this the same aisle we met in?"

It was. Apparently the fates were against him today.

"Kind of romantic, isn't it?" Alfred teased, winking.

_I have sunk to a new low_, thought Lovino as his face heated up in response to the comment.

"V-very funny, bastard," he stammered. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Oh." Alfred began to look vaguely nervous. "Nothing. Just looking for a book."

"Would that be what you are currently holding behind your back?"

Alfred fidgeted. "Yeah."

"…You aren't stealing it, are you?"

"Of course not!" Oh God he was pouting and why was he paying so much attention to that idiot's mouth, anyway—"I borrowed my brother's library card."

Lovino almost asked about the mysterious brother before he remembered Alfred didn't like questions. Hm, he'd have to investigate himself. After all, if he had a library card it was possible Lovino had seen him before without knowing who he was.

"Oh. Good. What book is it?"

"Nothing!" Alfred said quickly, causing Lovino to give him a pointed look. "Well, okay, it's_ something_. It's just kind of, um…"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Lovino said, and moved to step past the other boy.

"Wait!" One arm emerged from behind Alfred's back to catch him around the waist (and the touch most certainly did _not_ make him feel flustered and dizzy and warm).

He must have picked up on the slight hurt in the Italian's tone (surprising for such an oblivious person), because he hastily assured him, "I'll tell you tomorrow. Okay? We can get coffee again."

"All right," Lovino agreed, mollified at the offer.

"Cool," Alfred grinned. "Morning or afternoon?"

"Morning, I guess. My classes on Tuesdays don't start until two."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, then." With the arm already around Lovino's waist, he pulled him in yet again for a hug.

It wasn't the best hug Lovino had ever been a part of—it was only one-armed on Alfred's part, plus there were the books he was carrying between them—yet still him traitorous body relaxed and told his brain, _we could get used to this_.

Soon (_too soon_) Alfred released him and dashed off with an overly loud, "Bye Lovi!"

Leaving Lovino smiling like an idiot between the shelves for linguistics and mythology.

* * *

"Hey, do you know who Bonnefoy's favorite French students are?" he asked as soon as he walked back into the classroom.

Beillschmidt was lounging in his chair, doing absolutely nothing. Lovino dropped the books unceremoniously on the desk in front of him. It didn't seem to faze him.

"Hm? Francis has a lot of 'favorites.' Anyone with a pulse, basically, boy or girl—doesn't matter."

"I meant, who's the best in his class? Not whatever you're talking about. Bastard."

"Who…?" The professor thought about it for a moment. "I guess that'd be Birdie."

"Birdie?"

"Yeah. Matthew Williams."

"Oh." Alfred's last name was Jones, not Williams.

"Why do you want to know?"

"None of your business," Lovino answered automatically.

"Fine, jeez. I guess since you managed to waste two hours at the library you're free from my clutches for today."

Lovino smirked victoriously just as the door swung open.

"_Bruder_," the new arrival said. Great, now there were two potato bastards in the room. Definitely time for him to leave.

"Hey West," the professor greeted. "Were there any other random questions you wanted to ask me, Romano?"

_How do you know Alfred_? That was, of course, the next big question on his mind. But he wasn't willing to bring it up in front of Feliciano's boyfriend. Plus, the professor would probably just find a way to avoid the question like Bonnefoy had.

"No, I've leaving now." He scowled at Ludwig on his way out.

Goddamned kraut.

* * *

The next morning Lovino woke up to the realization that, although Alfred had mentioned a morning meeting, he hadn't specified a time or place.

He didn't panic this time, however. Instead he dressed (a bit more nicely than usual, maybe—but then, his style was always impeccable, and it wasn't like Alfred would notice anyway) and decided to head for the same coffee shop as last time.

Of course, Alfred turned out to be waiting on a bench outside the building. He stood up as soon as he saw Lovino emerge, smiling brightly as usual.

"You look nice."

_Fuck, he wasn't supposed to notice_, Lovino thought, even as his face reddened at the compliment.

"Bastard, how long have you been out here?"

Alfred shrugged. "Not long."

Knowing how skewed the other's sense of time was, that could mean anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. Lovino groaned. "Come on, idiot." He grabbed Alfred's arm and started pulling him towards the coffee shop. "How did you know what building I lived in, anyway?"

"Well, this is the one that had the campus police parked out front the night your coffeemaker broke, so I just kinda figured…"

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Why, do I come off as kinda stalkerish? I thought about just waiting at the coffee place, but I wanted to walk here with you." Alfred looked worried, as though he was scared Lovino would disapprove of his waiting outside. It was way too damn cute.

"It's fine. I don't mind if you…" His blush was intensifying. "…wait for me."

"Oh, good," Alfred said with relief evident in his voice. He moved closer to Lovino's side, and they walked the rest of the way together.

"I'm paying," Lovino said as soon as they were inside.

"What? No!" Alfred protested immediately. "I can pay for myself."

"I know you can," Lovino said. "But I'm paying today."

"But—"

"You can treat me next time, all right?"

This seemed to appease Alfred, who nodded.

"People try to pay for me a lot," Alfred muttered when they finally sat down with their drinks.

"Mm," Lovino hummed in response.

"It's not like I'm completely destitute, you know."

"I _do_ know. Really. But I made you wait, so today you have to let me pay."

"It really wasn't that long."

"Too bad."

Alfred's smile finally returned. "Is that another Italian thing?" he asked. "Insisting on paying for things for people they feel they've slighted?"

Lovino snorted. "No, Italians expect other people to pay for everything for them."

Alfred laughed at this. "Well in any case," he said. "_Grazie per il caffe_, Lovino."

"_Che_?..._Italiano_?" he asked, surprised.

A slight flush came over Alfred's cheeks; he fiddled nervously with his cup. "You know that book I was getting yesterday? It was a book on Italian for beginners. I wanted to surprise you, so I stayed up going through the first part last night. You speak it, right?"

"_Si_…yeah, I do."

Lovino was more than a little bit flattered. And amazed. And touched. He hadn't been expecting Alfred to do something so nice for him. It was really sweet.

He was doomed, Lovino realized. Irreversibly fucked.

Because this feeling was not just mere attraction any more.

* * *

A/N: I'm always surprised how long these chapters take to type up (I write it in shorthand before typing). Jeez, I need to go to bed.

Anywho, things seem to be progressing…rather slowly. I'm thinking time skip next chapter, but not a huge one. Also, Alfred's backstory is shaping up to be kind of…soap-opera-ish. It's not too out of place for the kind of things you see in manga/anime, so I'm not super worried. I'm sure my sister will tell me if my plans get too farfetched.

_Deutsch _is **German** for German; _Gottverdammt _is Goddammit.

As for the **Italian**…most of it is pretty easy to figure out.

_Bastardo _is bastard.

_Tedesco _is German (I think both the ethnicity and the language).

_Grazie per il caffe _is Thank you for the coffee (I think…I'm not fluent, myself).

_Che_?..._Italiano_? is What?...Italian?

And _si_, of course, is yes.

I was reading that the full, correct Italian phrase for "What?" is "_Che cosa_?" but that in the northern part of the country it's often shortened to "_Cosa_?" while in the south it's shortened to "_Che_?" I found that kinda cute, actually, imagining Veneziano and Romano saying "What?" in different ways…maybe I'm just easily amused.

Thanks for all the lovely support, it makes me so happy~


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Um, hey there. Long time no see, eh? I am really-really-really-really-really sorry this took so long. A couple months, actually. I swear it's Spain's fault; he just doesn't want to stay in character. (He's still not completely himself, but at this point it's just time to let it go.)

Also, thanks to Fabled Phoenix who pointed out that I incorrectly translated "deutsch" as the German word for Dutch in the ending A/N; it actually means German. Gilbert used it correctly in the story itself, though, so hopefully you all just ignored me.

Translations for _this_ chapter (all Italian):

_Chi? =_who?

_Che? =_what?

_Dove? =_where?

_Quando? =_when?

_Perché? _=why?

_Come? =_how?

_No c'e male _=not bad

_Non so =_I don't know

_Mi dispiace =_sorry

_Stai zitto =_shut up

_Posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi? =_May I tell you that you have amazing eyes? (this is a pretty standard Italian pickup line, apparently)

_(I'm really-really-really-really-really-really-really-really-really sorry, again!)_

* * *

"It's _chi? che? dove? quando? p__erché?_ and_ come?_" Lovino jabbed his finger at the blond sitting across from him after each question. "Now repeat that back to me."

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, only for the Italian to interrupt him, "_After_ you wipe your mouth off, idiot!" Alfred rolled his eyes and hastily scrubbed at the whipped cream left on his face from his drink.

"_Chi, che, dove, perché, come,_" he repeated rapidly, then took another sip.

Lovino watched, gaze intent (though of course, Alfred didn't notice). It was Alfred's turn to buy their drinks today and, much to his annoyance, he'd noticed Alfred always ordered the cheapest thing possible when Lovino was buying, and more expensive things (like the ridiculously large mocha frappé he had right now) when he was paying for himself. He didn't dare call him on it, however.

"_No c'e male_," he said, referring to Alfred's Italian. Which was actually true; his pronunciation was spot-on, although his accent was stubbornly American. "And what do those mean?"

Alfred shrugged. "_Non so_."

"_Idiota_!" Lovino stood abruptly and made to storm out the door.

"No no no wait, Lovi!" Of course, said idiot also got up to follow him. It seemed he would not be able to leave him behind.

_Like you want to_, Beillschmidt said in his head. _You've got it so bad you probably wouldn't mind if he was _stalking _you_.

_It's not that bad_, he protested mentally. Unfortunately, even his own mental voice sounded unconvinced.

_Now that's just sad_, Beillschmidt said. Unfortunately, it was. _Talk about being in denial_.

_I'm not in denial!_ And he wasn't! He was just very, very reluctant to even think about the ridiculously strong crush he was currently harboring. Maybe it would eventually go away…

_Ah, but mon ami, love should not be repressed so!_ Bonnefoy put in.

_Shut up. I don't even want to hear from you. Just…no._

_I'm just saying, _Bonnefoy murmured, sounding a bit petulant, _holding it in will drive you crazy. Even small gestures would help you ease your mind. Why do you think even unrequited lovers long to be in the presence of their beloved?_

_That doesn't make any sense. Wouldn't that just be painful?_

"Lovi?" Alfred interrupted his internal argument. Lovino looked up and (_dammit!_) met his eyes.

_Awww, look at him, tomate! _Antonio squealed. _He looks like a puppy! You wouldn't kick a puppy, would you? A cute little puppy?_

Lovino sat back down, causing Alfred to beam and sit, as well.

So much for storming out.

Lovino sighed. He and Alfred had been meeting every day for almost two weeks now, at a number of random hours and varying lengths of time. Last week Alfred had asked for help with his Italian (Lovino was more than a little pleased by this; he could count on his fingers how many people had willingly asked him for help with anything), so Lovino had been reviewing the basics with him for the past few days. It was frustrating, though, because Alfred was progressing much slower than he'd thought he would.

"Um, Lovi…are you ignoring me?" The question didn't really register; he continued to stare at Alfred contemplatively.

"_Mi dispiace_." The Italian apology snapped him out of his daze.

"For what?" he asked, blinking.

"For making you frustrated with me…"

_The poor puppy!_ Antonio squealed.

Oh yeah, and the language department taking up residence in his head was a new development.

"_Stai zitto!_" he hissed to himself. They were just as annoying as figments of his imagination as they were as real people.

"_Chi_?" Alfred asked. "I mean, if it's me I can be really quiet and not annoy you at all, I promise."

"No, not you, it's just—wait."

Alfred was fiddling with his napkin, seemingly engrossed with something on the ceiling.

"You _did_ know what they meant! What the hell, bastard?"

The blond's shoulders hunched in a bit.

"I just…wanted to spend some more time with you," he muttered. "Whenever I have trouble with something, you hang out with me longer," Alfred continued explaining. "So I just thought—"

"You'd manipulate me?"

"What? No!" Alfred looked shocked at the suggestion. "I wouldn't do that!"

"It's exactly what you were doing! Influencing my actions by lying is manipulation!"

The other had turned pale, by now looking positively anguished. "I didn't mean to," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry."

"…I'm not angry," Lovino sighed. And really, he wasn't. "You just weren't thinking."

"Again," Alfred said, bitter and self-deprecating.

_Kicked puppy…_his subconscious murmured. _Come on, give him a little encouraging scratch behind the ears._

"It's not like you make a habit of it," he said. Shit, he wasn't used to trying to cheer people up. "It was, uh, actually pretty out of character for you."

"Huh?"

"Well, you seem more like the kind of person to just ask me outright to spend more time with you, not try to be sneaky about it."

"I've been told I'm really annoying, being so blunt and forward," Alfred said. He wasn't quite so blanched anymore, but he was still refusing to meet his eyes and his shoulders were still up as if in preparation for a blow. _Or a kick, right between his cute puppy dog eyes. Dammit._

"Whoever told you that is an idiot," he said decisively. "Being blunt or forward or whatever is fine for you…" Dammit, just when he thought he'd make it through one of their meetings without blushing. "…because it's you."

Surprised, Alfred finally looked up at him.

Lovino didn't know whether it was the lighting or the expression on the blond's face or the phrase that had been repeating in the back of his head for the past few minutes ("_I just wanted to spend more time with you_"), but somehow the words fell out of his mouth unbidden when he saw those blues.

"_Posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi?_"

Alfred blinked, breaking the spell and causing Lovino's face to flame as he realized what he'd said.

"Um, I have no idea what that meant. For serious this time," Alfred said sheepishly.

"W-which just goes to show how much you still have to learn, bastard! Italian is a _language_, not just a few words and phrases. It will take a lot longer before you even begin to approach being fluent and so…so…" He faltered, seeing Alfred beginning to smile tentatively (_and adorably_). "S-so if you want longer lessons just say so."

Seeing him smile so widely and happily, Lovino had to acknowledge why he hadn't been more upset with Alfred—because he wanted to spend more time with the idiot, as well.

_Told you so_, Bonnefoy said smugly. _You long to be in his presence~_

Lovino quashed the voice back, mostly because he couldn't refute it.

_Now_, he thought, _how to tell him my new coffeemaker came?_

* * *

The next day was Wednesday. Lovino met Alfred for coffee and lessons in the morning, and true to his word, the blond stopped deliberately impeding his own progress. They stayed half an hour later than usual.

He still didn't mention the brand new coffeemaker sitting on the counter in his dorm…which he hadn't even touched yet.

So here he was worrying over it, sitting at Antonio's desk where he was supposed to be grading papers, glaring into space. And he was pissed. Obviously this sinking, vaguely guilty feeling was Alfred's fault. Worrying was screwing up his appetite, which was unforgivable.

But, that was part of the problem. Whenever he was near Alfred he just…didn't think straight! The boy was surrounded by this, this _aura _of _sunshine_ or some shit like that, and it made him feel warm and happy and goddammit he just lost his head every time. So whenever he should have been angry or annoyed, he found himself smiling or laughing like an idiot, except he didn't feel like an idiot at the time; oh no, that didn't come until afterwards when he was away from those eyes and that smile and he looked back and realized he'd been acting like a love-struck fool. And now he was having the same problem with bringing up the coffeemaker—the thought just flew out of his head as soon as Alfred smiled and greeted him, and didn't return until he was in the middle of classes or something (once he'd come out of his Alfred-induced daze to realize he'd been_ smiling_ through the first half of his calculus class, completely terrifying the professor to the point where he couldn't lecture).

But he _needed_ to remember it, because _that coffee was horrific._ He eyed the pen he was holding. Maybe if he wrote a reminder somewhere, like on the back of his hand?

(But of course that wouldn't work since he'd spend the whole time staring at Alfred's face.)

Utterly frustrated, he hurled the pen across the room.

Only for it to hit Antonio square in the face.

"…ah?" The writing utensil stuck to the man's forehead in comical fashion for a moment before falling into his lap. The professor's green eyes were wide in surprise. "Roma?"

"Goddammit," Lovino screeched, frustrated tears springing to his eyes.

Couldn't he do _anything_ right? Apparently not; he couldn't even have a small moment of irritation without almost stabbing one of the few people who actually liked him in the eye.

Antonio was up and by his side in a moment. "Romano! Please don't cry! What is it? Did I do something? I promise I'll fix it! Just tell me what's wrong."

"You can't fix the fact that I'm a worthless human being." He wiped furiously at his eyes with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming. For some reason, Antonio's gentle pats to his back and the concern in his voice had made the dam break, and he just couldn't stop crying.

The professor's tone took on a hard edge. "Who told you that? I'll get them flunked out of whatever language they're in."

"It's not something someone told me. It's just a fact, a fact I've slowly come to realize about myself."

"Roma…_lo siento_, but you're completely wrong."

Lovino sniffled a bit, but looked up.

"You know better," Antonio chided lightly. "You have more common sense than most people. Where did that go?"

Well, he had a point there. And it was unusual for the professor to sound serious unless it was important.

"But I'm not important," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"Wrong again! You're important to me and to your brother. Even the dean cares about you…in his own way. Francis and Gilbert really like you, too!"

Lovino snorted. "They're probably just smiling and nodding along with whatever nonsense comes out of your mouth." But the tears had stopped.

Antonio smiled at him. "And what about Alfred?"

He felt his face flush, just a little bit. "What about him?"

"Francis mentioned you made friends with him! He said Alfred seemed really happy to see you!"

"W-well, he's just an overenthusiastic kind of person."

"I dunno, Roma. He's very friendly but he doesn't really interact with a lot of people."

"You say that, but it seems like every teacher on campus knows him."

"Ah? No, I think it's just me, Franny, Gil, and the dean…"

"How do you—?"

"Haha, sorry, Roma, but I don't think I'm supposed to say. I'm sure Alfred will tell you eventually, since you're taking such good care of him!"

"Damn straight I am." He managed a small smile, which in turn made the professor squeal and envelop him in a hug.

"Ah, _mi tomate_, so cute!"

"Alright, alright, get off of me!"

Finally Antonio released him. "Okay! Boss says you're done for the day!"

"You're not my boss, _idiota_."

"I am while you're working after class! So Boss says: leave early! Go on and find Alfred."

Lovino stood and hefted his bag over his shoulder. "Really? You're telling me to stop working and go hang out with Alfred?"

"If he makes you smile like that, then of course!"

He blushed. "Fine then, I'm leaving. Stop saying embarrassing shit like that!" He headed for the door quickly, but stopped in front of it, turning. "Oh yeah, and remind me later to chew you out for calling me a tomato in front of your friends."

"Haha, okay! Bye Roma!"

* * *

It was a Wednesday. On Wednesdays they met in the morning. So the question was, where did Alfred spend his afternoons? Lovino tried to piece it together in his head.

He was most likely on campus, but far away from the language building or the dean's office where one of the adults who knew him might see. He would be _doing_ something, not just lounging around on the quad or near the dorms. But somewhere people weren't likely to bother him—

Oh, of course. The library.

It took about ten minutes of searching the building, but Lovino finally found him sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a shelf of archived science journals. He was bent over almost halfway, looking completely absorbed in whatever he was reading, glasses about to slip off his nose.

It was absolutely adorable.

Alfred didn't notice his presence until he sat down next to him. And he sat close, so their sides were almost pressed together. Alfred took this in stride, giving him a bright smile, and with that Lovino found himself at ease. Maybe it was just the post-cathartic feeling after crying, but in any case, he let his head fall onto Alfred's shoulder.

"Hey. Antonio let you go early?"

Lovino hummed in confirmation.

…This was really comfortable. He should do this more often.

_Small gestures_, Bonnefoy's voice whispered approvingly in the back of his head.

He seriously needed to find a way to get rid of him, though.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you something," he said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you like the library so much?"

Alfred grinned teasingly. "Because you're here, of course."

"Ha, ha," Lovino muttered, sounding sarcastic but secretly a bit pleased. "It's just that you chose this as a hiding place when I first met you; I thought maybe there was a reason."

"Well," Alfred said after a pause. More serious this time. "Back when I was still in high school, we had this really big research project we were supposed to do. They took our class here, since the sources're so much better than at the local library. Plus they wanted us to be prepared to use this place and find our way around…ya know, when we were actually in college.

"It was my favorite field trip. I didn't get any work done, though, 'cause I got distracted."

"By the science journals?" He looked down at the one in Alfred's lap. Something about 'Doppler theory.' "So basically what you're telling me you were a geek in high school?"

"Still am at heart." That cheeky grin was back. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"I'm tired," he announced. "Have fun with your science stuff."

"Are you leaving now?"

"No," he replied simply, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Lovino came awake slowly, and without Alfred noticing. The sun coming in through the glass dome ceiling above had dimmed; he guessed it was almost six. He was really comfortable, but staying in the library all night was not an option.

"Hey Alfred."

The boy looked up, startled.

(Their faces were so close…)

"I meant to tell you, I got a new coffeemaker."

"…oh yeah? That's…nice, I guess. Um."

"Yeah. Remember when I told you that Italian-made coffee put everything else to shame?"

Alfred smiled.

* * *

A/N: It's a bit short, but I've started getting ideas for this again so expect more next time! Which will come much sooner than it did this time!

Also, puppy!America is the brainchild of Coffee-Flavored Fate, as you Romerica readers probably already know. It was only through the extensive rereading of everything Romerica that this chapter was able to be written, so thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: Well, it's been almost ten months. I am afraid you were all grossly misled last time when I said the next update would be soon. You are all awesome and deserve better, but this time I am reasonably sure you'll be seeing an update soon (no longer than a month away, I promise. If it looks like I'm going to break that promise _please _feel free to message me and bother me until I do). Just as a heads up to those of you following me for Hetalia, the next one or two fics posted will probably be Supernatural fics, because I already have one short one written and also I'm signed up for Sassy Week 2.0 on tumblr. On the other hand! I got another Romerica fic idea. So, look forward to it I guess?)

Translations:

-_Benvenuti_…welcome

-_Idiota_…idiot

-_Perfetto_…perfect

-_Che_?...What?

-_Mi piaci di brutto_!...I like you too much! (_di brutto_ is an interesting piece of slang, as it is sometimes translated as "like hell" or "like mad"—appropriate for Lovino)

-_A ____più tardi__ …_see you later (man there are lots of ways to say this in Italian)

* * *

TALA 6

Feliciano was gone when they got to the dorm room, having left a sticky note on the door saying he'd run over to the potato-bastard's place. Oddly enough, Lovino was okay with this.

"Well," he said, "this is it. _Benvenuti_."

Alfred peered around the room, without moving from his spot just inside the door. "It's nice," he said, kind of quietly—for Alfred, at least. It seemed almost like he was being _shy_.

"Why don't you try actually coming in first before you tell me that?"

"I _am_ in," Alfred protested half-heartedly. But he shuffled a little further into the room. Lovino rolled his eyes and grabbed his hand, pulling him in completely and kicking the door shut behind him. Alfred stared down at their joined hands for a moment. "Thanks for inviting me," he mumbled.

_Still so quiet_. Lovino frowned. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'll make the coffee."

"Roger." Alfred saluted with his free hand. He reluctantly untangled their fingers and edged towards the living area of the dorm room as Lovino headed for the kitchen area.

"Where should I sit?"

"It's not like there are that many choices, bastard. The settee or either of the desk chairs. Hell, sit on the bed if you want to. The bottom bunk is Feliciano's, though."

Lovino spun abruptly, planting his hands on his hips and glaring. "And don't you even think about sitting on the floor. The furniture isn't about to eat you or anything."

Alfred froze with a slightly guilty expression, then slowly sank onto the swivel chair at Lovino's desk.

"_Idiota_." He turned back to start on the coffee.

"I think I saw a movie like that once," Alfred said after a moment. "Furniture. Eating people."

"You're kidding," was his incredulous reply. "What kind of movies are you watching?"

"It was one of those movies on the Syfy channel. Except I saw it before they changed the spelling to s-y-f-y."

Lovino snorted. "The Syfy channel. Figures you'd watch that, geek."

"But Lovi!" Alfred whined. The pout was audible in his voice. "Sci-fi movies are awesome! Although, sometimes the movies on the Syfy channel? Not so much."

"I could have guessed that, what with the carnivorous furniture."

"Haha, good point!"

Lovino smiled to himself, glad his guest was finally relaxing.

"There's gotta be at least _one_ sci-fi movie you like," Alfred prompted.

"I liked the one with the robot," he shrugged. That one managed to get a full laugh.

"Bit more specific?" Alfred asked as Lovino poured out two cups of coffee. He turned to see Alfred grinning.

Schooling his face into a blank expression, Lovino crossed the room, coming to a halt directly in front of the chair. He held out the cup and said very seriously, "I'm sorry, Alfred. I'm afraid I can't do that."

Alfred's eyes lit up. "_2001: A Space Odyssey_!" he exclaimed. "I knew you'd have good taste."

"Naturally," Lovino said, a bit smugly. He pulled Feliciano's chair out to sit in and sipped at his drink.

That seemed to remind Alfred of his own cup. He looked down at it. "Do I need to do anything to this, or…?"

"Of course not," he dismissed with a wave. "It's _perfetto_ as is."

Alfred nodded decisively, and then took his first sip.

And immediately put the cup down.

"Oh man," he said.

Lovino blinked, not entirely sure what this reaction was. "_Che_?" he asked.

"Lovi, I am sooo sorry."

"About…what?"

"I made you go to all those campus coffee places!" Alfred looked horrified with himself.

"Well I was hardly going for the coffee, was I?"

Alfred opened his mouth to protest again before he suddenly appeared to absorb his companion's words. "Oh," he said.

It felt nice not to be the one blushing, for once.

"Drink your coffee," he ordered.

Alfred picked up the cup reverently.

"I can make more, you know."

"You're amazing," Alfred said, like it was a fact. He took another sip, expression blissful. "So…" he said, suddenly amused. "What did you make of the ending?"

Lovino groaned. "Oh God, _Kubrick_."

They discussed Kubrick as a director and as a writer, then moved on to other strange movie endings. When they had finished debating the meaning of the abrupt ending of _Vanishing Point_, Lovino felt Alfred had finally relaxed enough for him to ask, "So why the phobia of my furniture, bastard?"

"Oh…that. It's just, um, been a while since I've been invited somewhere. And actually went."

Lovino took a moment to look the boy over. He was wearing his dark red Doctor Who T-shirt today, and jeans that were a size or two too big for him. Rumpled, but not too dirty. His sneakers were ratty and needed new shoelaces; he could see where one lace had frayed into two pieces, only for Alfred to tie them back together. He obviously didn't have anything in his pockets—no wallet or cell phone. Alfred himself looked kind of…worn down, now that he looked closely. He was too skinny. His hair was lank and needed to be cut. There was dirt under his fingernails and smudged across his nose under his glasses. As a matter of fact, his glasses seemed to be the most cared-for part of Alfred's person.

_He did say his vision was horrible without them. And glasses are expensive._

And _God_ but he wanted to keep him. He wanted to feed him and buy him new clothes and make him sleep on his expensive mattress. To give him a home.

But there was no way Alfred would accept that. The kid had a stubborn streak of pride that kept him from "taking charity," which was bullshit, in Lovino's opinion—to refuse help from people who cared about him.

But Alfred was sure to balk if Lovino did anything like that, so he'd have to think smaller.

"Dinner," he said musingly.

Alfred started, suddenly looking skittish again.

"Um, I don't think I can stay for dinner."

"Pasta," Lovino continued as though he hadn't heard him. Alfred's expression morphed into one of scowling annoyance. It seemed so out of place on his face that Lovino was almost—almost —dissuaded.

"Lemme guess—it's 'for my own good,' right?" Alfred demanded.

Normally this kind of behavior would have set him off, but Lovino kept his cool and simply said, "No, for your _education_. Now that you've had Italian-made coffee, you _have_ to have Italian-made pasta."

Alfred opened his mouth again, probably to say something stupid, so Lovino reached out and clapped his hands to the sides of the other's face.

"_Alfredo_," he said loudly.

Alfred blinked. "Wha?"

"I'm making alfredo. Chicken alfredo, I think." He narrowed his eyes. "Whether you like it or not."

Alfred stared at him, studying his face. Lovino guessed he was looking for any trace of pity, but all he felt was worry and protectiveness. He wanted Alfred safe and happy.

And well-fed, dammit.

Alfred's shoulders slumped as he smiled sheepishly. "Oh," he said. "I'm being rude, huh?"

"You're lucky you're cute," Lovino agreed with a nod.

He ended up making a quadruple serving of chicken alfredo in the hallway kitchen. Alfred had questioned the amount of food doubtfully, but Lovino brushed it off by saying, "Americans eat a lot, don't they?" Alfred had seemed relieved for the excuse to eat as much as he wanted, and seeing him so content after he'd eaten his fill slightly loosened the knot of worried tension in Lovino's stomach (that he was starting to realize was going to be a constant so long as Alfred was still homeless). He wondered if this was how Kirkland and the others felt.

Alfred volunteered to do dishes in one of the tiny sinks in the hallway bathroom, and Lovino let him without too much protest. He directed Alfred in putting the dishes and utensils back in their correct places before breaking out the biscotti tin and asking, "Movie?" He even let Alfred pick out a DVD, because he was a nice guy like that, dammit.

"Oh my God you have _Blue Velvet_!"

"Of course I have _Blue Velvet_; Isabella Rossellini is in it."

"This is like a cult hit in Europe, right? I think Francis said that when I first watched it with him."

Lovino made a face. "You watched _Blue Velvet_ with Bonnefoy?"

Alfred just laughed. "He's not that bad, I promise."

"Sure," Lovino said doubtfully. "Are we watching this or not?"

"You don't mind watching it again?" asked Alfred, even as he was already opening the case, crouched in front of the DVD player.

"It's been a while since I've seen it," he answered, collapsing into his brother's chair. It rolled backwards a bit. "Feliciano's taste in movies is…well, not quite as refined as mine."

"Picky," Alfred murmured quietly.

"Shut up, bastard."

Alfred pushed the DVD in and scrambled back to his own chair. He looked over to grin excitedly at Lovino. It was too cute, so Lovino shoved a biscotto at his face. Alfred latched onto it with his front teeth and broke off a bite.

"Man, these are awesome!"

Lovino nodded. "A family friend makes them. Amata."

"Wow. I'm starting to think Italians are the best at _everything_."

"Our culinary prowess is unmatched," Lovino agreed. He narrowed his eyes. "No matter what the French bastard tells you."

Alfred laughed.

The menu screen popped up, so Lovino jumped to get hit the lights before pressing play. When he returned to his seat Alfred scooted closer, explaining, "Uh, some parts of this movie are kinda creepy," when Lovino raised his eyebrows. Huh. It seemed Alfred was easily frightened when it came to movies. He stored this information away for later.

Of course, 'later' turned out to be as soon as the movie ended, when Alfred asked if he had any Kubrick.

"Most of my collection's at home, actually. The only two I have here are _Dr. Strangelove_ and _The Shining_."

"No Russians!" was the vehement response.

So they ended up watching the horror movie.

Alfred started shaking within the first ten minutes—nothing had even _happened_ yet—so Lovino coaxed him up onto the top bunk, where they sat under the blankets with their sides pressed together. Alfred passed out right after the ending, apparently exhausted from being terrified.

Lovino was having more trouble drifting off. Namely because of the boy next to him, sharing his bed with one arm thrown over his waist and his feet tangled with his own.

_Of course he's a cuddler_, he thought, feeling an odd mix of elation and despair.

_The movie scared him, so he wants to be close to someone_, he tried telling himself. But God help him…he wanted it to be _on purpose_. For Alfred to hold him because he—

"_Mi piaci di brutto_!" he whispered.

Lovino buried his face in his pillow and counted to one thousand nine hundred and seventeen in Italian before he fell asleep.

* * *

Alfred jolted awake at some ungodly hour in the morning, which dragged a reluctant and grumpy Lovino from his slumber and into the too-bright world of the living.

"Fucking Christ," he mumbled blearily. Alfred was squirming beside him, seemingly trying to disentangle himself from the blankets. "Bastard, what the hell are you doing?"

"Didn't mean to stay the night," Alfred muttered, still fighting valiantly against the bedding.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Just go back to sleep; it's too early for this."

"But I didn't mean to—"

"Stay the night, yeah. I heard you the first time. You sound like someone who accidentally fell asleep at a one-night stand's place when you meant to leave in the middle of the night without even a note."

Alfred paused, this comparison apparently weird enough to make him stare at Lovino oddly.

"But—" he said finally. He wasn't wriggling around anymore, thank the Lord. "I shouldn't—I _can't_ make a habit of it."

"So don't. Whatever."

Alfred just continued to stare at him, and he sighed. "Is this because of the whole homeless thing?" Lovino asked. "It's not like it's the one thing that defines you, you know. Not everything has to be about _that_."

Alfred was giving him a different sort of look now, one Lovino couldn't quite parse. It made his stomach feel strange and his head feel light, so he flopped back down and repeated, "Too early for this. Go back to sleep."

Alfred lay down.

Lovino was almost asleep when he felt Alfred put his arm back over him. He cuddled closer and hid his smile in Alfred's shoulder because, fuck it, it was too early in the morning to care about anything else.

* * *

"It's a Thursday; he doesn't have class until two."

"Ve, that's right! I always forget."

_Someone is talking about me_, Lovino thought sleepily. _Two someones_.

"I believe he works in the library today as well."

_Now someone I don't like is talking about me_.

"The fuck is the potato bastard doing in our dorm room?" he demanded, sitting up. A quick glance at the clock told him it was eleven thirty. All three other occupants of the room were standing on the floor beside the bed.

Feliciano pouted up at him. "Don't be mean, Romano! You brought _your_ boyfriend over; why can't I bring Ludwig?"

Lovino flushed scarlet. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"We're just friends," Alfred confirmed with a slightly nervous laugh.

Feliciano and Ludwig looked at each other, clearly skeptical. Of course, Lovino realized, when they'd come on they would've seen him and Alfred curled up together. In the same bunk. Fuck.

"If you say so," Feliciano replied doubtfully.

Ludwig cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I have to leave for class now."

"Too bad," Lovino sneered.

"Why would you take a class right at lunchtime?" Feliciano asked. The pout was back.

Ludwig almost-smiled and leaned down to kiss Feliciano on the cheek. "I'll be back to walk you to your history class, alright?"

"Okay!"

Lovino waited until he'd left to remark, "Well, at least you have the kraut well-trained."

"Yep!" his brother enthused. "He's finally started to be okay with showing affection in public!"

For some reason Alfred was smiling at them, amusement clear on his face.

"You staying for lunch, bastard?" Lovino asked. Alfred seemed to consider it, but shook his head.

"Not this time." It was almost a promise, and it made Lovino smile.

Alfred gave him another look, reminiscent of the one from the night before. He was biting his lip with a considering expression, but eventually he just said, "I'll probably stop in at the library later, okay?"

"Okay." Alfred stopped in every time he worked in the library.

Alfred hesitated a moment longer. "_A più tardi_," he said, and then he was gone.

"Romano…what exactly do you know about him?" Feliciano asked after a moment.

"Not this again," he groaned. "Alfred's a really nice guy, I don't need to worry about him being a psycho killer or something."

"But shouldn't you know _something_ about his past?" Feliciano questioned fretfully. "It's just kind of strange—"

"Look, all I need to know about Alfred is that he's my friend _now_. If he doesn't want to talk about whatever shit he did years and years ago, it's his own business."

"Not big dark secrets," persisted Feliciano. "Just where he's from. I know Ludwig went to school in Germany and he transferred to a private high school here to live with his brother when he got the teaching job."

Lovino scowled. "That's not a big deal—"

"Exactly! It's not a big deal." He looked at him, sincerity shining in his eyes. "I just want you to be safe."

"…Alright," Lovino conceded grudgingly. "I'll see what I can do and report back to you. Happy?"

"Yes!" Feliciano smiled and gave him a quick salute. "I'll start on lunch!"

"'Kay."

Well, he _was_ curious. But there was no way he'd get anything out of Alfred. He was going to need an alternative source of information.

_And I know just who to ask._

* * *

(A/N: Boom.

So I'm sure you all know, Amata is from _Educating America_.

All other references were movie references, so here's what you need to know: _2001: A Space Odyssey _and _Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb _and _The Shining_ are all movies directed by Stanley Kubrick, as well as others like _A Clockwork Orange_ and _Full Metal Jacket_. The ending of _2001_ is super weird. SUPER weird; _Dr. Strangelove_ involves Russia and mutually assured destruction, which is why Alfred said 'no Russians.' _The Shining_ is based on a Stephen King novel. The reason Lovi was kinda squicked about watching _Blue Velvet_ with Francis is because it has some weird kinky sex stuff in it, and Lovi is under the impression that Bonnefoy is a super pervert. According to my dad, it was very popular (in an underground kind of way) in Europe. Let's see…_Vanishing Point_ is another weird movie which indeed has a very abrupt (and unsatisfying, IMO) ending. These are all movies that my dad forced me to watch with him (with the exception of _The Shining_, which I watched myself because I'd read the book). So basically you're getting a glimpse of my dad's taste in movies.

One last thing—I can't really come out and say what Alfred is thinking since I'm doing third person limited with a focus on Lovi's point of view…which is very frustrating sometimes. That's why there's a lot of Alfred 'seeming' to feel something, because Lovino is interpreting his emotions himself instead of me describing them and breaking the POV. BUT, you should all know that just before Alfred left, he was considering copying Ludwig and kissing Lovino on the cheek and then offering to walk him to class. So yeah.

Soooo sorry for the wait, guys. You're all amazing for putting up with me.


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N: Okay, so there's a lot of talking in this chapter...but not a lot of Alfred. We learn some new things, though! So that's cool? And look, I updated in less than ten months!

ALSO: If you can write or draw, you should participate in the Romerica Exchange on tumblr! You don't even need a tumblr to participate; just find the Romerica Exchange page on tumblr, and you should see a post directing you to sign up! Instead of a tumblr URL you can put down your fanfiction username (though please note that it's not a tumblog in the notes at the bottom). Sign up ends August 17th. _Do it._)

* * *

**TALA 7**

"Come on, you're the only person I can ask!"

"I already told you, I'm not supposed to say anything!"

Lovino crossed his arms and glared at a distressed-looking Antonio. "Says who?" he demanded.

His professor looked away nervously. "Well, Franny mostly, but Alfred asked me not to talk about it with anyone, too."

"Wait, really?" So even Alfred was anticipating people asking about him?

"Mostly because of Kirkland," Antonio confirmed his thoughts. "Wait, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"I already knew about Kirkland," Lovino said impatiently. "Give me something else!"

"I can't! Go ask someone else who hasn't promised not to talk!"

"I told you, I don't have anyone else to ask!" Which was true. Kirkland would probably expel him if he tried to bring up Alfred. Bonnefoy had already proven to be evasive when it came to the subject, and Beillschmidt was...Beillschmidt.

But his Spanish professor was fond of him, and he'd figured that made him the weakest link. Apparently he'd been wrong.

"I _promised_," Antonio said firmly. Lovino was about to throw up his hands in defeat and storm out when Antonio added, "But..."

Lovino stilled, hardly daring to breathe in case the slightest thing would make Antonio change his mind.

"You could try Väinämöinen."

"Uh, what?"

"Not what, _who_. The Finnish student. Find him."

Lovino hesitated, but it wasn't like he had much choice. "Vaina-what?"

"Väinämöinen. He'll probably be outside the geography building. With a really tall scary guy nearby." Antonio stood up on tiptoe and made a face in an impression of said scary guy.

"Right," said Lovino, unimpressed. He turned to leave but paused in the doorway. "Thanks," he said, only a little grudgingly. "Bastard."

Antonio just sighed. "Be careful, Roma."

Lovino nodded and left.

What was there to be careful about, though?

* * *

Okay, so his professor's imitation of the big scary guy hadn't been a ridiculous exaggeration. In fact, it had been a (still ridiculous, admittedly) understatement.

Lovino had spotted Väinämöinen outside the geography building, just as Antonio had said he would. Besides the big scary guy, he was the only other person around. The problem was, the big guy was _too _scary. Lovino had been determined, about to march up to this Väinämöinen guy and demand answers, when he'd spotted his companion and veered off to hide around the corner instead.

Seriously, this guy was terrifying. Besides being freaking huge, he had this extremely intense expression on his face like he was contemplating murder or something.

Lovino made a couple circuits around the building, trying to work up the nerve to approach. What was such a happy-go-lucky-looking person like Väinämöinen doing hanging around with someone so intimidating? On his fourth go-round, however, the scary guy noticed him and his glare intensified (_how was that even possible?_). He muttered something to Väinämöinen, who turned and caught Lovino's eye with a smile.

Fuck, now he _had _to go over. Steeling his courage, Lovino finally completed his determined march as though he'd never taken that detour.

"Hey, you're Vaino-Vaina-"

"You can just call me Tino," the Finnish student said mildly, as though he were used to the butchering of his last name (as well he should be, having such a ridiculous one). Scary Guy just glared. "And this is Berwald," he added, noticing the nervous glances from Lovino. "My fiancé."

"Congratulations," Lovino said, not really caring. "Do you know someone named Alfred?"

His bluntness didn't seem to faze the Finn either. "No, I don't think so." He looked up at Tall Scary Guy-Berwald. "Does the name Alfred ring any bells, Be?"

"No," was the short reply.

Lovino blinked. "You sure?"

They both nodded.

Why the fuck had that bastard sent him here, then?

Suddenly something bumped into the back of his knees, causing him to stumble forward.

"Who are you? Why are you asking about Al?" an overly-loud voice asked. It was coming from somewhere below him.

Lovino turned and looked down. A small blond kid in a funny hat glared back up at him.

"Peter, don't be rude," he heard Tino admonish from behind him, but he ignored this in favor of staring the kid down.

"I'm Lovino. Who're _you_?" he demanded.

The kid puffed up, kind of like a cat trying to look bigger. "I'm Peter! And _I'm _Alfred's friend!"

"Peter, you know someone named Alfred?" Tino asked. Lovino ignored him as background noise once again, too intent on the staring contest between he had going with the kid to acknowledge him.

"I'm Alfred's friend, too," he said, unimpressed with the kid's posturing. Peter looked as though he didn't believe him.

"Why're you asking about him, then?" Peter challenged.

Lovino wasn't quite sure how to answer. He didn't think this "friend" of Alfred's would take 'I'm doing a background check' as a good answer. "It's a secret," he said finally.

Peter lost some of the attitude and perked up eagerly. "Like a secret mission?" he asked excitedly.

"Sure," agreed Lovino, pausing for a beat. "Secret mission. Exactly."

Peter nodded. "Got it," he said, suddenly quiet. "Hey Mama, me and this weird guy have to have a _secret _conversation for our _secret _mission."

Tino and Berwald shared a look as Lovino raised an eyebrow at the kid. '_Our?_'

"Alright," Tino said finally. "Berwald and I will sit over there. Stay in our sight, okay?"

"Yeah, okay!" Peter grabbed Lovino's hand and pulled him over to a clump of bushes, where they crouched. Berwald and Tino sat on a bench and pretended not to be watching.

"You know," said Lovino, "it's not very secretive if we're _outside _the bushes."

"I'm supposed to stay visible, remember?" Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Right. Whatever. So how come you know Alfred, but your parents or whoever they are don't?"

"They're my _adoptive_ parents," Peter explained. "Alfred left the orphanage before they came and adopted me, so they didn't meet him."

Hold up. _Orphanage?_

"Have you...seen him since he left?" Lovino asked slowly. He wasn't sure how much Peter knew about Alfred's current situation, and at the same time he didn't want to reveal how little he knew about Alfred's past.

Peter's nose scrunched up as he thought. "He visited once after school, but that's it. One time I thought I saw him hanging around with Ivan, but it can't have been him since the stuffy English guy and the Frenchie'd already adopted him n' Mattie by then."

Lovino had to reach out and steady himself, hands on the ground, to keep from falling over from his crouch onto his butt.

_That's gotta be Kirkland and Bonnefoy_, he realized. _Holy shit. Kirkland and Bonnefoy adopted Alfred! So what the hell happened?_

"But he didn't take either of their last names," he said slowly, fishing for more information.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure he kept Williams as his last name."

That threw him for a loop. "Alfred _Williams_?" he asked. "Not Jones?"

Peter gave him a weird look. "Of course not! The Joneses were the ones who adopted him the first time."

"And that didn't work out...?" Lovino prodded.

"I knew it wouldn't," Peter confided with a nod. "They didn't adopt his brother so he just came back. Al is really loyal. And protective. And he was always super nice to the younger kids."

Lovino hmm'd, nodding gravely. This seemed to please Peter; he must not be taken seriously very often.

Okay. So Kirkland and Bonnefoy had adopted the brothers Alfred and Matthew Williams. Somehow, Alfred had ended up on the streets, calling himself Jones. His brother must have been the student Beillschmidt was talking about (fucking Christ, he'd had that lead for _weeks _but the last name had thrown him off), which meant he was still in school and presumably not homeless.

So once again Lovino had to wonder: what the fuck happened?

"Alright, are there any other details you can remember?" he questioned Peter, lowering his voice to sound secretive. "Like from when he visited after school?" Because when Alfred had been in school, he still would have been living with his brother and adoptive family.

"Well, he was wearing a school T-shirt," Peter recalled. "One for a science club or something."

"Do you remember what the school was?" Lovino asked eagerly.

Peter shook his head. "No, but it was purple and yellow. Those are probably the school colors, right?"

"You're right," Lovino said, unable to help sounding impressed, because he was.

"And the logo!" Peter exclaimed, excited as he remembered something else. "Their school mascot was some kind of bird."

Lovino smiled despite himself. Now he was getting somewhere.

"You've been really helpful," he said, dropping back to a whisper and leaning in conspiratorially. "I trust the entirety of our conversation will remain top secret?"

Peter gave him a quick salute and then a grin before he jumped up and darted off back to his parents. Lovino gave them a small wave, then beat a hasty retreat.

Okay, so the kid was kinda cute. _And _he'd gotten out of there before Peter thought to ask why he was questioning him about Alfred again.

Fuck yeah, he was good. And he had a new lead: Alfred's high school. Some of his classmates or friends were bound to have ended up at Gakuen College; if he found them he could find out more about the time after Alfred left the orphanage. He'd have to look for that elusive brother of his, too.

* * *

He ended up finding one of Alfred's schoolmates first. And it happened, of course, in the library.

It was a Thursday, almost a week after he talked to Peter, so he was working in the library after Spanish class. He'd been mindlessly checking books out at the front desk, not really paying attention to the individuals in the long line of students. The only reason he'd even looked up was because he was looking for one of the other aides-seriously, how come every time a line built up he was the only person up front? Fucking annoying.

But lo and behold! His coworkers' slacking paid off because when he looked up, the student he'd just started checking out (biochemistry texts, ew) was wearing a purple T-shirt with a gold bird on the chest. Lettering underneath identified the mascot as belonging to F. F. Rex High School.

"_Fuck _yes," Lovino said.

The student, a brown-haired fellow with a rather large backpack, stared at him. "So I...can just tell you my ID number?"

Oh. Apparently he'd been asking a question. Which he'd inadvertently given a very enthusiastic answer to. Probably the kid had forgotten his library card and wanted to check out the books using his student ID number. This kind of thing happened very frequently, and Lovino was notorious for refusing to let students check out without their cards. But in this case he could make an exception.

"Yeah, what is it?"

The kid rattled off a number. Lovino typed it in, confirming his identity with the ID picture that popped up on the computer screen.

So...Toris Lorinaitis.

"Random question," he began as he ran the books' barcodes under the scanner. "You know a kid named Alfred Jo-uh, Williams? I think he went to that high school."

Toris paused before his face lit up with recognition. "Oh yes, Alfred went to Rex. He was in the year below me. I talked to him at lunch a lot. He's a very nice person." He frowned. "I heard he dropped out, though. I can't imagine why; by all accounts he was a gifted student. He was in the Science Olympiad club, I think."

"I'd heard he dropped out, too," Lovino nodded, trying to act casual. "In any case, I was trying to get a hold of him. Do you know anyone I could ask about him...?"

Toris took the books he handed over the counter, looking thoughtful. "I think his best friend goes here now, but I don't know if they're still in touch. They were in Science Olympiad together, too. His name was Kiku Honda."

Lovino forced a smile. _He _was Alfred's best friend, dammit. Still, finding this Honda kid was probably a good idea.

"Thanks, you've been very helpful," he said. Toris smiled back at him.

"Thank _you_," he said, putting the books in his already stuffed bag. "Have a nice day." And then he left. Polite motherfucker.

"Hey, can I check out using my ID number, too?" the next student in line interrupted his thoughts.

"No," Lovino snorted.

"But-"

"Shoulda remembered your library card," he told her. "Next in line, c'mon!"

After a few more minutes he was able to snag one of his coworkers and force her to take his place. Then he went to look for Kiku Honda. He figured the guy was Japanese, so he basically accosted all the Asians he spotted (and there were a lot of them in the library, for some reason) or hissing "Hey, Honda!" from a few feet away to see if he got a reaction (which he did-a few times from people who were wondering what the hell he was doing, and once from a guy whose last name was actually Honda, but wasn't Kiku).

Still, his search did not lead him to the Honda he was looking for. Lovino huffed in frustration. He'd have to keep checking.

* * *

It was a Saturday, which meant he was in a relatively good mood despite his frustration with not being able to find Honda over the course of the last two weeks. He'd come to the library to pick up a book for an astronomy project that had been assigned in class the day before. He actually liked astronomy, which was rather unexpected-he'd only taken the class because it filled a general ed requirement.

He meandered past the language section, spotting the book that Alfred had checked out all of those weeks ago. It figured it would be back by now; the due date had probably been a while ago. And of course, with Lovino's tutoring, who needed the stupid book? Alfred's lessons were going very well. They could have basic conversations now, though only about a limited range of topics. Alfred always surprised him, however, with his creative use of what he'd learned so that they never had the same conversation twice, despite these limits.

Alfred had said he used his brother's card to check it out, he remembered, tapping the spine of the book as he went by. He really should try to find this Matthew Williams.

He hurried on to the physics section to find his book, still thinking about the mysterious brother, but his musings were cut short when he rounded the corner to see a petite Asian student sitting at one of the desks, clicking away at a laptop.

He was wearing a purple and yellow Science Olympiad T-shirt with a gold falcon on the front.

"Hey!" he called, a bit too loudly. The student jumped, startled. Lovino was a bit startled himself; he hadn't consciously thought about addressing him. "Hey," he said again more quietly, approaching. "You're Kiku Honda, right?"

"Yes," Honda confirmed warily. "And you are?"

"Lovino Vargas." When Honda continued to stare at him impassively, he added, "I work here. Not today though." As though somehow that made him more legitimate.

"I see," was Honda's succinct reply. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know Alfred Williams?" he asked bluntly, leaning forward with his hands on the top of the desk.

Honda's eyes widened, seemingly startled again. "Alfred? Have you seen him?"

For some reason, the concern in Honda's voice was pissing Lovino off.

"Yeah. You haven't?" he challenged. Not the best way to get information out of the guy, but...okay. He was jealous. Okay? Jealous over the idea of this "best friend" of Alfred's from high school. So sue him.

"Not since the graduation ceremony," Honda said. "He came to watch because I was graduating a year early. Alfred could have graduated early, as well, but he transferred at the last second due to family troubles. Is he okay? He seemed upset when I saw him, even though he tried to hide it."

Family troubles...now what could that entail? And apparently, Alfred had told his friends some kind of lie about transferring.

"That idiot," he growled. "Always covering up what's wrong."

"He doesn't like for his friends to worry," Honda defended.

Lovino narrowed his eyes, annoyed. "People have a right to worry about him," he said shortly. "Thanks for the help." He walked away briskly.

"Wait!" Honda called after him, but he didn't. There was a sick feeling in his stomach, and it wasn't just the jealousy. He wasn't quite sure what it was, actually.

But he didn't like it.

* * *

The next week was Thanksgiving break, which was a long time coming but really only consisted of Wednesday through the weekend. He tried to convince Alfred to spend Thanksgiving Day with he and Feliciano in the dorm, but Alfred refused.

In a rare display of openness, Alfred explained he'd probably spend the day at a shelter with some younger kids he'd promised to hang out with. He seemed pleased by the invitation-but he was even more pleased when Lovino didn't push the issue and fuss over him. Which was enough to make the diatribe about Alfred needing a coat now that it was November die on his tongue, unspoken. It made the sick feeling worse.

He did manage to get Alfred to spend the night the day after Thanksgiving so he could foist leftovers on him. So that was something.

It was the week after break, on an unremarkable Friday, when he was once again checking out a line of students, that he glanced at the library card he'd just been handed and saw the name Matthew Williams.

His head snapped up and he stared at the student who could have been Alfred's twin except his hair was a bit longer and his eyes more violet.

...how did he always end up finding these people in the library?

* * *

(A/N: So this chapter is dedicated to Science Olympiad, I guess? Anyway, I dunno how I feel about Japan's voice. It's hard to tell because I want to show him kinda from Lovino's perspective, and Lovino doesn't really like him (although in canon I believe they're supposed to get along just fine). Tell me what you think!

Also, if you have free time and like piano medleys, I have an absurdly long one up on youtube called "84 Song Medley for People With Nothing Better to Do." You know, if you're interested.

Coming soon! Serious conversations! Romance under the stars! Academic career choices! A bloody nose and a haircut! The mysterious brother gets pissed!)


	8. Chapter 8

_So I wrote this instead of studying for stats yay_

_I should go do that studying thing now_

_If you're still reading this story you're amazing and I'm sorry_

_In this chapter: Crying! Talking! Emotional issues! So you know, same as usual? But hey, Alfred actually showed up again._

* * *

**TALA 8**

"Herakles!" Lovino yelled, disregarding all his training as well as library etiquette. Everyone within earshot jumped and stared at him, a few even dropping their books. After a few moments his lazy-ass coworker appeared.

"Yeah?"

"Cover for me." Herakles nodded slowly; the patrons in line who recognized the aide taking over groaned. Lovino ignored them and jabbed a finger at Williams. "I need to talk to you."

"But, my books? Why-?" Williams looked completely bewildered. Lovino completed his checkout rapidly and grabbed the books before heading for the entrance, leaving the poor guy no choice but to follow him.

Lovino led him outside and around the outside of the building, stopping under a large oak tree and whirling to stare at Alfred's older brother. Just looking at him it was obvious he was well-off: clean-shaven (whereas Alfred was starting to go stubbly), wearing warm, clean clothes (as compared to Alfred's three ratty T-shirts), and a bag full of notes and textbooks (while Alfred carried _all his worldly belongings _in his bag).

So yeah, Lovino was not getting a really great impression of Matthew Williams.

"What's this about?" Williams asked cautiously.

"Your brother."

"Al? What about him?" His eyes widened. "Is he okay?"

"You tell me," he replied shortly. He shifted the books he was holding to balance the pile on his hip. His other hand was clenched at his side.

Williams frowned. "I only see him every other week. He seemed fine the last time I saw him, though."

"Did he?" Lovino ground out.

"Yes, he did," Williams answered firmly. "Not that it's any of your business-"

"How would you know?" he interrupted. "You ever ask him what he's up to? Or how he deals, having to live like he does? Or are you too caught up in your own perfect little world of academia?"

"_What?_"

"How about what he's eating? Where he's sleeping?" His voice was getting louder, and Williams just kept shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, he doesn't even have a coat!" He was breathing heavily and trembling with anger. To his consternation, he was also tearing up as he did when he got upset.

Williams just stared at him. Lovino wanted to punch his clueless face in.

"What do you mean?" Williams asked finally. Tentative, almost scared. "About eating and sleeping and...what does that mean?"

It hit Lovino then. Why Alfred's brother wasn't concerned about him. His stomach dropped, and every brain cell he had screamed _shitshitshit_.

_He doesn't know_.

"Nothing," he rasped, throat suddenly dry. "I didn't mean-it's nothing."

"No, you definitely meant something," Williams insisted, advancing on him. Lovino tried desperately to think of something to say as the other gripped his shoulders tightly. "You make it sound like he's, like he's living on the streets or something? But he can't be."

Lovino opened his mouth, hoping the lie he hadn't thought of yet would magically appear on his tongue, but nothing came out. Williams' face twisted.

He snatched his books and shoved Lovino away. "You're wrong," he said quietly, but his voice was shaking. "Alfred wouldn't lie to me. He wouldn't leave me behind. Not after everything else. He promised."

Lovino stood there, long after Williams had left. And that was it. He'd screwed up.

* * *

He didn't sleep that night. He hadn't made any definitive plans with Alfred for the next day, so he ended up wandering the campus looking for him. Part of him wanted to go back and hide in the dorm, but he knew he should find Alfred and admit what he'd done-before his brother found him, if possible. At the very least he owed Alfred a warning. Possibly also an apology.

But, _but_...he couldn't quite feel sorry for letting the cat out of the bag. A little (a lot) terrified over what Alfred's reaction would be, yeah, but he couldn't help but feel relieved that his brother _knew_. Maybe, if anyone could talk some sense into Alfred it would be Matthew. Not likely, from what he'd seen, but he couldn't suppress the small flame of hope the idea kindled.

He'd made a rounds of the campus almost three times by that point. As it became clearer that Alfred was nowhere to be found, his hurried gait became slower and slower until finally he sank onto a bench and scrubbed his hands over his eyes.

Dammit, was friendship supposed to be like this? Filled with simultaneous hope and hopelessness and frustration and elation and the overwhelming need to take care of someone or kiss them or possibly both? He'd never felt so many contradictions at once, about himself or another person, and while he was loathe to use the expression "being torn apart," every time he saw Alfred he wanted both to laugh and to cry and it _hurt _and he never wanted it to stop.

"Lovino, _breathe_!" Oh, someone was talking to him.

His hands were pulled away from his face and held in a warm grip. He was embarrassed to find that he immediately knew it wasn't Alfred's, because Alfred's hands were always so cold. The idiot didn't have gloves.

"_Fratello_?" he questioned softly, not wanting to open his eyes and risk bursting into tears.

"Lovi," his brother answered. "I saw you go by the dorm twice. You were practically running!"

Lovino made a noncommittal noise.

"And you were biting your nails!" Feliciano rubbed his thumbs gently over Lovino's knuckles. "You haven't done that since we were little."

He took a deep breath, but his voice still wavered when he admitted, "I messed something up. And I can't fix it. I can't fix anything. I can't _do _anything!" Despite himself, tears began to escape from behind his eyelids.

He heard Feliciano kneel. Then he was pulled forward until he had his face hidden in his brother's shoulder. There he felt safe enough to allow himself to cry.

"Can I help?" his brother asked, distressed.

Lovino snorted, rather wetly considering he was crying. "What a question," he muttered. He wished he could ask that of Alfred. He burrowed further into Feliciano's shoulder.

"They're brothers. They're _brothers_," he murmured. "He _has_ to help."

* * *

Despite crying having a reputation for relieving anxiety, Lovino wasn't feeling much better two weeks later. He was slumped over a chair outside of his advisor's office, refusing to move no matter how many disdainful looks and pointed coughs the secretary sent his way. Technically he'd just finished his appointment with Bella and there was no reason for him to sit back down outside. But goddamit, he did not feel like moving. Or doing anything productive.

For the past two weeks he'd been cycling between misery and anger and apathy, and currently apathy had him in a stranglehold. Or whatever the apathetic equivalent of a stranglehold was. He slouched down further. Fuck moving. He was staying right here, dammit.

Matthew Williams sat down next to him.

Seriously? _Seriously_?

"Hi Lovino," Williams greeted him, smiling.

Lovino mustered up a rather-pained looking smile back. "Matthew."

"Waiting to see an advisor?"

"Actually I've already seen Ms. Bella. I'm just...hanging around now."

"Oh, Ms. Bella is my advisor, too. She talks to students who haven't decided on a major yet, right?"

"I think so, yeah."

Williams hummed in response. He was still smiling, and it was starting to creep Lovino out. He tried to calculate an escape route, but then Williams was speaking again.

"I suppose you're in the advising building a lot."

Lovino's eyes narrowed. "And why would you suppose that?"

"Well, I've been asking around and it seems like you're the type who would need a lot of counseling."

Lovino's eye twitched but he didn't drop his grin. He leaned in. "So you've probably also heard that I could _beat the ever-loving shit out of you_."

To his credit, Williams only looked unnerved for a moment before his cheerful expression returned. "I'd like to see you try."

Lovino snorted and sat back, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor. "Like I'd bother with a kid like you."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Williams grip the arm rest like he was trying to break it with his bare hand. Silence reigned for the moment. Lovino was dying to ask how Alfred had reacted, but...on the other hand he really, really didn't want to know. It must have been bad, whatever happened.

After a few minutes the door in front of them opened and Bella stepped out. She smiled at the two of them. "Mr. Vargas, still here? Was there something else you wanted to discuss?"

Lovino managed a more sincere smile this time. "No, I just wanted to remain close to where you are, _Bella_." He allowed his accent to emphasize her name.

The advisor smiled and rolled her eyes a bit. "Oh, of course. Well remember that you can stop by anytime, alright? Mr. Williams, I'll be ready for you in just a moment; just let me go make some copies of this first."

"Yes ma'am." Williams watched her leave and then stood, moving in front of Lovino and looking down at him. "Have you been telling Alfred to avoid me?" he asked quietly.

Startled, Lovino looked up. "_What_?"

"You heard me." Williams was scowling, not even bothering with pretense now.

"Wh-no. No! I haven't been 'telling' him anything because I haven't _seen_ him in two weeks!"

And that wasn't a lie. Alfred had seemingly disappeared. No communication at all. He'd thought it was because he was angry at him for talking to Williams.

But if that wasn't the case, then where the hell was he?

_Shit_. He stood up abruptly, causing Williams to take a step back in surprise. "Well this has been fun, but I gotta go."

Williams' eyes hardened. "I don't think so."

"Do we really have to do the macho standoff thing right now? If you haven't seen him and I haven't seen him, something is _wrong_."

"I don't believe you," Williams said simply.

"I don't have time for this. At this point I'm willing to go to Kirkland or even fucking _Bonnefoy_, but you need to get out of my way."

Williams' hand shot out and grabbed the collar of his shirt. Lovino noticed suddenly that he was trembling. "Are you saying," Williams started, then paused. His voice rose. "Are you saying my parents know about this?"

"Your foster parents you mean?"

"Yes. Them." Williams' grip tightened.

Lovino just stared incredulously. "You didn't figure that out? _Really_? You have got to be the most oblivious brother in the history of the world. And I know something about oblivious brothers!" He was vaguely aware that his own volume was rising, too, but he was just so fucking frustrated with this person who had turned out to be _no help at all_.

"Is there a problem, boys?" a mild voice cut in. They looked over to see Ms. Bella regarding them with eyebrows raised.

"No ma'am," Williams said quietly, letting go of his shirt and stepping away.

"Well then. You can go ahead into my office and I'll follow you in just a moment."

Williams picked his bag up in silence. When the office door shut behind him, Ms. Bella placed her hand on Lovino's shoulder. "The dean wants to see you," she told him.

Lovino felt a surge of panic. "I wasn't fighting, that wasn't-"

"Mr. Vargas, he called the secretary five minutes ago and she passed the message along to me. How would he know about what just happened? And as you said, it wasn't a fight."

Lovino sighed in relief. "Right. Sorry."

Ms. Bella smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure it's nothing. You're not in trouble."

Lovino doubted that, but he nodded anyway, unwilling to have such a nice woman worry about him. "You're the type that likes bad boys anyway, right?"

Ms. Bella snorted and whapped him on the arm with the file she was holding. "Get going, bad boy, or I'll be the one _punishing _you." She gave him a wink when he laughed, surprised. "And keep your chin up. It'll get better."

She entered her office, and he absconded.

* * *

He'd told Williams he was prepared to confront Kirkland or Bonnefoy, but when he was actually faced with the dean's scowling visage he felt quite _un_prepared.

"What exactly did you want to see me about?" he asked warily. So far all Kirkland had done was stare at him intently.

"You just had an advising appointment, correct?" Kirkland asked, finally looking away and clicking something on his computer.

"Are you stalking me through the school records? Is that what's going on?"

Kirkland shot him an unimpressed look. "Answer the question."

"Fine. As you apparently already know, yes, I just came from an advising appointment. You called the fucking advising building to get me to come here."

Kirkland didn't bother calling him on his language. "And what was the appointment about?"

"I'm pretty sure that's classified. I don't have to tell you shit."

Kirkland waved that off. "Well, I can guess. You have to declare a major by the end of your sophomore year, correct? Have you decided on one?"

Lovino huffed. "Fine, you nosy bastard. Yes, I had a meeting to remind me to be thinking about a major. Everyone in my year has to have one before signing up for next semester's classes. No, I have not picked a major yet."

Kirkland shrugged. "That's normal enough for a sophomore. Any ideas, though?"

"Look, just get to whatever it is you really want to talk about already."

Kirkland's gaze flickered towards him briefly before turning to stare out the window.

"About Alfred..."

Lovino groaned.

"Francis said he hasn't seen him around lately. Has something happened?"

"How would I know?" God, he _wished _he knew.

"You're close to him, by all accounts."

"_Whose _accounts? Have you people been talking about us?"

Kirkland continued as if he hadn't heard him. "And frankly it's a bit worrying that no one has spotted the two of you together like you usually are."

"Do you have a network of spies or something?"

Finally Kirkland looked at him. "I'd appreciate if you'd just answer my question," he said sharply. "I understand that the two of you dislike my scrutiny, but I really do only have your best interests at heart."

"Is that what you told Alfred?" he asked, and noted with interest the way Kirkland's calm expression spasmed.

"That boy wouldn't know what's good for him if it kicked him in the arse," he grumbled.

Lovino agreed, but he was hardly about to tell Kirkland that. He wished he could ask exactly what had happened between these two, but he got the feeling neither party was willing to discuss it. Come to think of it...

"Does he even talk to you at all?" he asked, curious.

Kirkland looked genuinely pained, and for a moment Lovino was sorry for asking.

"No. He hasn't since-that's none of your business, though."

"Well what makes you so sure that whatever Alfred's doing is any of my business? You know how he is."

For just a moment they commiserated over Alfred's stubbornness.

"But he takes things from you, doesn't he?" Kirkland asked suddenly.

Lovino blinked. "What?"

"He lets you buy him things," Kirkland insisted. "Or give him things. _Food_."

"Only occasionally," Lovino told him, bewildered. "And we take turns paying when we go out. It's not really a big deal."

"I think you know that it _is _a big deal. He won't accept anything from anyone else but you."

"Well that's because I don't make a big deal out of it! And I don't always talk about the fact that he's homeless! Of course he's going to run for it if you make it seem like a pity thing!"

"It's not a pity thing! It's wanting to fill the basic needs of someone I care about!"

Lovino frowned and looked away.

"You can't really be _okay _with the way things are, can you?" Kirkland continued, incredulous. "How can you not want him to just accept help? He's _homeless_, and that's a serious problem, not some small detail you can just ignore as though nothing's wrong!"

Lovino jumped up out of the chair and headed for the door. "I should go before your next appointment gets here," he bit out.

"What? I don't have a next appointment. And we're not done talking!"

"If you really want to talk about Alfred, I'm sure Williams will be here soon to discuss with you."

"_Matthew_?"

Lovino slammed the door and only paused for a moment to listen to Kirkland swearing up a storm in his office before he decided to spend the rest of this definitively sucky day in the dorm. Maybe he'd finally be able to mope in peace.

* * *

No such luck.

He was facedown in his bunk, but he could feel Feliciano staring at him.

"Something _you _want to discuss with me?" he asked finally, turning his head to meet his brother's eyes.

"Well," Feliciano hesitated. "It's about Alfred..."

Lovino groaned. "Of all the topics you could have picked, you managed to pick what I want to talk about _the least_. Congratulations."

"But, _fratello_, it's just that..."

"What?" Lovino snapped. A bit unfairly, really, considering how careful Feliciano had been around him over the past weeks. But he just did not want to do this right now.

Feliciano finally mustered up the courage to say, "It just seems like he's making you really unhappy."

Lovino made an aggrieved noise. "He's not the one making me unhappy; all these people bugging me about him are making me unhappy!"

"Where is he then?"

"I don't want to talk about that either!" Lovino exclaimed, then buried his head in his pillow again. He was tearing up.

"Fuck!" he screamed into his pillow. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

Someone knocked on the door.

"Fuck," Lovino told the pillow one more time for good measure. He threw the pillow away, jumped down from his bunk, and marched past a frozen Feliciano to answer the door.

"What?" he demanded. He was thoroughly fed up with this day, and- "_Alfred_?"

Sure enough, Alfred was standing on the other side of the door. His face was covered in blood.

"What the hell?" Lovino screeched.

Alfred put one hand up in a half-hearted wave. The other hand was covering his nose, which appeared to the main source of the blood. Lovino was struck by an odd sense of déjà vu.

"Uh," someone cut in. He blinked and realized the RA was also standing out in the hallway. "I saw him hanging around the front of the building and he looked like he needed help. He's a friend of yours, right? I seem to remember him coming by a couple of times..."

Lovino snapped out of his horrified staring. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry for the trouble. Oh my God, Alfred, get in here!"

He reached out and grabbed the sleeve near Alfred's free hand, gently pulling him inside. The RA gave him a nod and reached in to shut the door behind them.

"Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ," Lovino muttered in a mantra as he maneuvered Alfred over the his desk chair and sat him down.

Feliciano appeared at his side. "Is he okay?"

"Shit, I don't know. Say something, bastard."

Alfred's head was hanging down, bangs covering his eyes.

Lovino carefully pulled his hand away from his face and tilted his head up so he could see the damage. Alfred's nose was still leaking sluggishly. There were bruises-old and new ones-ringing his eyes and scattered down his face, as well as a couple of scabbed-over scratches. One lens of his glasses was cracked.

"Keep your head like this; it'll help stop the bleeding," Lovino instructed. "Feli, can you get a wet washcloth?"

When Feliciano moved away, Alfred finally looked at him.

"Hi Lovi," he said, voice tired and scratchy.

"Jesus Christ," he said again. Then, "Hi."

Alfred blinked, expression hazy. "Have you been crying?" he asked quietly.

"Huh? Oh. Just a bit. I, uh, stubbed my toe on the way to the door."

"To answer the door?"

"Yeah. Are you retaining information okay? Do you have a concussion? Please tell me you don't have a concussion."

Alfred shook his head. "You stubbed your toe on the way to the door," he said slowly, "and I was on the other side of the door, so..."

"So?"

"So it's my fault you stubbed your toe."

Lovino took in Alfred's mournful expression and tried to decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Dammit, he'd been crying way too much recently.

"I'm sorry I made you cry," Alfred whispered. "...And stub your toe. Does it hurt?"

"Are you seriously asking if my toe hurts? With your face looking like this?"

Alfred stuck his tongue out, just a little. It was enough to see that there was blood in his mouth, as well. His lip was split in two places.

"My face isn't that ugly. Jeez, Lovi."

Lovino let out a shaky breath of a laugh.

His eyes remained on Alfred's face as Feliciano pressed the washcloth into his hand and moved away again.

He began to dab at the crusted blood around Alfred's nose. The bleeding had finally stopped. "What am I going to do with you?" he wondered aloud.

Alfred gave him a small smile. It was the best thing Lovino had seen in two weeks.

He didn't let himself question him, even when he had finished cleaning him up. Not even when he allowed himself to be put in Lovino's bunk with no coaxing at all.

He hesitated for a moment, but in the end he climbed up and lay beside Alfred until he fell asleep, staring at his battered face and thinking.

What had happened? And would he have the courage to ask?

He woke only a few hours later, when Alfred started shifting.

"Mmmm," he protested sleepily, until he realized that _shit _Alfred was awake. "Alfred? Are you okay?"

"Uh, I think so. My face kinda hurts, though."

Lovino leveled a look at him. "Kinda?"

"Kinda a lot," Alfred admitted.

"Want some painkillers?"

Alfred sighed. "Yes please."

Lovino sat up and climbed out of the bunk, headed for the small medical kit they kept in the room. He heard Alfred slowly making his way down, as well. He wanted to tell him to get his ass right back in bed, but honestly he was too scared Alfred would run off again.

Thankfully, by the time he'd pulled out a bottle of pills, Alfred had sat back in the desk chair, holding his head.

"Owww," he whined. Lovino smiled, because that sounded like _Alfred_. Fuck, he'd missed him. It had only been two weeks.

He ignored Feliciano staring at him from his own desk, where he'd apparently been typing a paper.

"You seriously need a haircut," he muttered as he handed Alfred two pills and a glass of water.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks Lovi."

"I can do it," Feliciano piped in suddenly.

Alfred jumped. They both turned to look at him.

"If you'd like a haircut," Feliciano clarified, smiling. "I can do it. I cut Romano's hair whenever he needs it."

Lovino was rather taken aback by his brother's sudden cheerful attitude, but..."That's true. He's the only person I'll let near my hair with scissors."

Alfred looked bemused, like he wasn't sure whether they were being serious.

"I think yes," Lovino decided for him. "If you don't mind, Feliciano."

"Not at all!" his brother chirped, standing.

They managed to get a towel around Alfred's neck and a pair of scissors in Feliciano's hands before Alfred said, "Wait, seriously?"

"Hold still," Feliciano chided, going to work on the back.

"O-okay." Suitably chastened, Alfred stopped wriggling.

Lovino sat on his desk and watched, smiling.

Feliciano hummed as he worked, and Alfred slowly started to relax.

He figured now would be the best time to ask. The idiot wouldn't attempt an escape with someone holding scissors to his head, right?

"So did you get beat up again?" he asked bluntly.

Feliciano's humming faltered a bit, but he soldiered on regardless.

Alfred cracked one eye open and gave him a sheepish look.

"Yeah. Same guy who beat me up the last time, actually."

Lovino sighed. "At least you didn't go to the library this time."

"And yet here we are again. We really have to stop meeting like this, Mr. Vargas."

Lovino frowned. "Stop kidding around," he muttered. "I was worried."

Alfred winced. "Sorry. I was gone for a while."

"Yeah, I noticed that. When you disappeared for two weeks with no warning."

No reply.

Feliciano's humming had stopped at some point. He moved between them to work on Alfred's bangs. "There," he declared, stepping back. "All finished!"

Alfred stood. "It feels a lot better like this, actually."

Lovino picked up the small mirror from the desk and handed it to him as he came over to survey his brother's work.

"It looks nice," he said, surprised.

"Yeah, it almost makes up for the fact that my face is twenty different colors of pain right now," Alfred said, echoing Lovino's thoughts. "Thanks Feliciano! Wow, it's been a while since anyone cut my hair. Probably Mattie..." He trailed off. "Hey, there's a bathroom down the hall right?"

"Yep, to the left," Feliciano confirmed.

"Sweet, be right back."

Fuck, he'd managed to forget about Williams in his happiness at Alfred finally showing up. Fuuuuck.

"So...what was that about?" he asked his brother.

Feliciano sighed. "You've been feeling horrible for two weeks, and then that boy shows up covered in _blood _and you're happy again. I still don't understand exactly what kind of relationship you have with a boy that apparently gets _beaten to a pulp _on a regular basis but...if he makes you happy? I'll support you, no matter what."

Momentarily stunned, Lovino stared before a quavering smile broke across his face. "_Grazie, fratello_." He leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"I still think you should be careful," Feliciano muttered sulkily. "And if he makes you cry again..."

Whatever threat he'd been attempting to make was cut off when Alfred burst back into the room.

"Hey Lovi, do you wanna go somewhere?"

"What do you mean go somewhere? It's almost midnight."

Alfred bounced a bit. "Yeah, but we haven't hung out in two weeks!"

Lovino bit his lip. That was true. And it was good to see Alfred with his energy back.

"Don't you think you should sleep some more?" he tried.

"Nooo," was the whined response. "Sleep later! Sleep is boring."

"I-fine. Okay. Let's go do...something."

Alfred punched the air. "Awesome! I've got a great idea, wait 'til you see!"

Feliciano looked amused. "Have fun, then."

Alfred smiled and darted forward to grab Lovino's hand. "We definitely will! Thanks again Feliciano!"

Lovino was pulled out of the room and then out of the building at high speed. Normally he would have protested but Alfred was still holding his hand and he'd missed that.

But he still needed to tell him about his brother.

Alfred's great idea turned out to be walking half a mile off campus, away from town and into the woods. Lovino wasn't a big fan of the woods usually, especially at night, but Alfred's babble made the trek almost pleasant.

"Here!" Alfred announced suddenly. 'Here' was a small clearing with a clear, if a bit constricted, view of the sky. Alfred let go of his hand to flop down in the grass. Lovino followed him down more gingerly, leery of sticks or bugs or whatever else was waiting on the forest floor.

Alfred giggled and patted the grass. "Come on!"

With a resigned sigh, Lovino lay down completely.

Alfred pointed at the sky. "Nice, right? We'd be able to see more stars further away from the town, but this is as good as it gets in this area."

Lovino looked up, contemplative. "Pretty nice," he concluded. He really wanted to look at Alfred, but he doubted he could get away with staring without being questioned.

He did glance over quickly to see Alfred smiling up at the stars, and smiled himself.

_I have to tell him about Williams_.

"Hey, you're in an astronomy class right? What's up there?"

Lovino snorted. "There's a hell of a lot 'up there,' bastard."

He laughed. "Yeah, but what are we looking at? Ooh, is Cancer up there? Cancer's a crab right? I'm pretty sure that's my sign."

Lovino made a mental note of that; Alfred had never told him his birthday.

"It's December, idiot. You can't see Cancer in December."

"Aww." Alfred pouted. "Well what can we see then?"

Lovino looked away from Alfred's face again and searched the stars for a moment. "There," he pointed, "that's Aries."

"Where?" Alfred wiggled closer, and Lovino grabbed his hand and pointed it for him. "Near the edge of the trees. See those two stars there?"

Alfred huffed. "Don't look much like a ram to me."

"None of them really look like what they're named after, if you ask me. There, to the left a bit is Perseus." He shifted Alfred's hand.

"Ooh, I see it! I think..."

"And above that are Cassiopeia...and Andromeda."

"Hey, have you ever read The Andromeda Strain? Or seen the movie? Or even the TV series, though I didn't think that was as good. The movie was great though!"

Lovino allowed Alfred to ramble about sci-fi for a while, but there was a pressure building up in his throat and behind his eyes and his stomach hurt and eventually he couldn't hold it in anymore.

He slowly disentangled their hands. Alfred turned to look at him, confused.

"I met your brother," Lovino told him quietly.

Alfred's relaxed posture disappeared as he tensed up, suddenly wary. "You did?"

"At the library. I, I can see why people think you're twins."

"Yeah."

"I didn't realize-" He choked. _Oh God_. "I didn't realize that he...didn't...know..." he trailed off, waiting for the explosion.

Alfred stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending, before his eyes widened. "Aw Lovi, you didn't."

"I'm sorry," he offered lamely.

Alfred grunted, putting one arm over his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose.

"But," Lovino continued, because it wasn't like he could make it any worse at this point, "was the really something you should have hidden from him?"

Alfred just frowned. "You shouldn't have told him," he muttered.

_You _should have, Lovino wanted to say, but didn't.

Alfred didn't say anything more to him. Not in the clearing, not on the way back to the dorm, and not before he disappeared into the night again.

Lovino just hoped he had somewhere to sleep. That he wouldn't disappear again.

That he'd talk to him again, _ever_, oh God what had he done?

He climbed into bed without waking Feliciano, and no matter how many times he told himself he was done crying over that boy, the tears wouldn't stop.

* * *

_Once I finish exams next Tuesday I'll be out for the summer whoop time for statistics_


	9. Chapter 9

I wrote this listening to Sixpence None the Richer's "There She Goes" on repeat so there's that.

This one is for **Kay-Mentrae **for the review that really got me in the spirit to write this. Props to **Positively** for the info on altar serving since I only did it like twice. Thanks!

Just a reminder that the T rating is for **language,** as some stuff goes down in this chapter where people call other people unpleasant things.

This chapter features the appearance of priest!Mexico. Since there's no canon Mexico yet, feel free to insert any characteristics you like. My personal favorite is **nadiezda**'s, and I got the name from them. Cuba and Austria also have cameos in this chapter!

Translations:

_-novio_: Spanish for "boyfriend" (I was given to understand that this is typically used for boyfriend despite literally translating as groom; Spanish speakers please feel free to correct me on this.)

-_la misa_: Spanish for "the Mass"

-_lo siento_: Spanish for "sorry"

-_gracias, Padre_: Spanish for "thank you, Father"

-_ustedes/vosotros_: plural form of Spanish "you;" _ustedes _is used in Latin America while _vosotros _is used in Europe

-_Nonno_: Italian for "grandfather"

-_per favore_: Italian for "please"

* * *

**TALA 9**

_What the hell is going on?_

The church was two streets away from where the edge of campus blurred into the college town. The early mass attendance was always sparse, as the college kids preferred sleeping in after a long night of their activity of choice (studying? partying? despairing over the human condition?). Lovino would also have liked to be sleeping away the morning in the dorm, but when you knew the priest, it wasn't really an option. Priests had this special "I'm disappointed in you but I'm not going to come out and say it because I hope you'll do the right thing" look that was especially potent considering they had the Almighty on their side. It was like being stared down by your favorite uncle and Jesus at the same time.

Anyway. He and Feliciano had known Father Eduardo since their early teens, and had been altar serving for just about as long. Having to serve at the early masses wasn't exactly an enviable position, so usually he or his brother or both of them got roped into staying through the 8:00 mass and the subsequent 10:00 Spanish mass. Some other lucky bastards got to serve at the later masses and sleep in.

Today it was just him, and Feliciano was one of the lucky bastards that got to sleep in. Or at least, it would have been just him. Except Alfred had been waiting outside for him at 7, smiling and raring to go. So now Lovino was sneaking covert glances at him, sitting in a front pew, as he waited at the side of the altar to carry the Book over to Father Eduardo for the opening prayer. He made a determined effort _not _to look as he crossed the altar during the Gloria, but judging by the amused slant of the priest's eyebrows as he opened the Book, it hadn't worked too well.

"Let us pray."

It would have worked better, Lovino thought, if Alfred didn't keep catching his eye and _smiling _at him whenever he looked over. One, because it was embarrassing, and two, because it was seriously distracting. Why, why, why was Alfred acting so...normal? He'd seemed angry last night, in that horrible silent way that meant he was really upset, and then this morning he hadn't even mentioned it. And even walking over, Lovino had been too scared to ask lest he jinx it. So they hadn't really said anything, just "Good morning, can I come with you to your service thingy?" "It's called Mass you Protestant heathen." "Yeah that, can I come?" "If you want to?" "Sweet."

Alfred had whistled during the walk, while Lovino battled sleep and confusion and general early-morning irritability. He'd watched Lovino put the white robe over his clothes, grinned, and gone to sit in the nave. Thirty minutes later Lovino had carried the cross past him in the front, nearly tripping up the whole processional when Alfred had waved at him.

Father Eduardo gave him a covert nudge, and he realized with a jolt that the prayer was over and everyone was sitting down. He snapped the Book shut and shuffled back to his seat with his face burning.

The rest of Mass passed in much the same, horribly excruciating, way. He missed most of the readings and the Homily watching Alfred try to mouth along with the other parishioners' responses. While it was obvious he was unfamiliar with the hymns, he seemed delighted to try following along in the hymnal. Lovino wondered if he had any musical background at all. He wondered a lot of things about Alfred, actually, and despite himself he wondered all through the Mass.

He hoped it wasn't too obvious to the parishioners, but Father Eduardo had no qualms calling him out on it before the Spanish mass started. "I could get the Machado kid to fill in for you if you wanted to hang out with your _novio_."

"Excuse me?" Lovino sputtered.

"You know, hang out? I thought that's what the kids called it these days."

"You're not funny, you know."

"No, I'm hilarious. And anyway, Carlos will definitely cover for you if you wanted to skip out early today. Just say the word and I'll grab him before _la misa _starts."

Lovino resolutely turned his back, fiddling with the rope around his waist.

"He's not my boyfriend, and I'm not skipping out." He could practically hear the priest rolling his eyes. What a professional.

"If you insist." He muttered to himself in Spanish for a few minutes. Then, "Isn't he that homeless kid?" Eduardo asked offhandedly.

Lovino spun back around. "How the hell do _you _know him?"

"Language," Eduardo reminded him.

"Ah, _lo siento_. But, how?"

Eduardo cocked his head to the side, considering. "Well, you know the parish ministry runs a social outreach program. Collecting food and clothing for the homeless. He comes by there sometimes. I can't say I've ever talked to him, since he's always in such a hurry, but I remember thinking he was awfully young."

"Oh." He digested this for a moment. "Actually, Father, if you don't mind..."

"Of course, go ahead," Eduardo told him, waving a hand. "I'll go get Carlos."

"_Gracias, Padre_."

Eduardo smiled. "You're a good kid, Lovino. Of course, that's partly due to my positive influence, no?"

Lovino snorted, already pulling the robe over his head. "Yeah, well, not according to Antonio. He keeps getting after me for using _ustedes_ instead of _vosotros_."

Eduardo grinned. "Excellent, keep up the good work." Which was really an implicit _fuck that guy_. He didn't understand the tension between those two, but he figured it was none of his business. "See you next week, bright and early."

* * *

"I thought that was going to be a lot more depressing than it actually was," Alfred mused. Lovino noted with dismay his words forming puffs of white in the air. Had it somehow gotten colder since this morning?

"We're not so dour all the time, you know. It's Advent season, not Lent." He started to subtly herd them towards the main street of town, where hopefully they could find somewhere to slip inside and get warm.

"I meant to ask," Alfred changed the subject, "how exactly did you end up altar serving here? Didn't you tell me you usually live a few towns over?"

"Yeah, when school's out we live about an hour away," he confirmed. "Well, after our grandfather died..."

"Oh crap! Sorry! I didn't mean to bring up anything like that!" Alfred flapped his hands nervously.

Lovino stared for a minute, trying to glare a pair of gloves into materialization over the idiot's fingers. When that didn't work he sighed and grabbed one hand, which was very helpful as far as leading the way went, as well as getting Alfred to calm down.

"It's fine, I don't mind talking about it."

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked quietly.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't say that I was! Now shut up and listen."

Alfred mimed zipping his lips with his other hand, because he was a dork. They continued slowly towards Main Street, and Lovino continued his story.

"So, after Nonno died we went to live with our Uncle Roderich, who was a total asshat. Not like a bad person or anything, just...not a very good parent. Of course he loved Feliciano but at least he wasn't totally taken in by his cuteness like most people. I think the first time he told us we were expected to do chores Feli actually started crying.

"Anyway, he was Lutheran and Feli and I had been raised Catholic. He tried taking us to his church a few times, but after I threw a tantrum in the middle of a, a worship service or whatever it is they call the Mass, he stopped taking us. We were just hanging around one Sunday when we saw his next door neighbor come out. He was annoyingly friendly and he asked why we weren't in church. Feliciano told him all about it, and the guy volunteered to drive us to the Catholic church he usually went to, which was this one. We just got in his car and went. Roderich threw a fit when we got back, since Antonio hadn't thought to ask him about it."

"Wait, your neighbor was 'Toni?"

"Yeah, that's how we met him. And that's how we met Father Eduardo, too. Roderich gave us permission to ride with Antonio every week, and a few months later we were approached about altar serving. Antonio tried to take pictures the first time, if you can believe it."

Alfred bit his lip. "I can believe it, actually," he said, laughter evident behind his words.

Lovino snorted and bumped his shoulder into Alfred's arm. "Yeah." They continued in silence for a while. "I found out later that Antonio was a professor at the college. I wasn't too happy about it." Understatement. "The college was like a symbol of my grandfather to me. I hated the place."

Alfred blinked at him. "But you're here now."

Lovino blew out a long breath. "I wasn't planning on attending here, but Antonio and Father Eduardo talked me into it. And Feliciano _nagged _me into it."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Some bullshit about not completely breaking ties with my grandfather. But that's not really why I decided to stay." Alfred squeezed his hand. Lovino smiled, squeezed back, and spoke with conviction, "I decided not to let the old bastard affect my decisions. I like it here, it's a good school, and I won't let my grandfather's ghost prevent me from enjoying it."

"That's great, Lovi. You're great." Alfred sounded genuinely amazed.

He let himself enjoy it for a moment before crooking a wicked smile at him. "Damn straight I am."

Alfred laughed. After a few minutes of walking in companionable silence, he spoke up again. "Did you want to ask me something?"

_Why aren't you mad at me_? "Like what?"

"Well I mean, you just told me a bunch about you, so it's only fair I tell you something about me, right? If you wanna ask."

Oh. _Oh_. That opened up a whole range of possibilities, from _How often do you get food from the church program?_ to _Why did you leave_? This was a great opportunity in theory, but something told him that he could also blow this big time. Better to play it safe.

"Actually, I was wondering during Mass if you know anything about music."

Alfred looked startled, then laughed. "You caught me, I know nothing about anything remotely musical. I kept trying to follow along but mostly I ended up just pretending to sing. Was it that obvious?"

"You looked totally lost. It was pretty funny, actually."

He winced. "Thanks. But um, was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

Huh. He hadn't backed out of it, despite being obviously skittish over the offer.

"What's your brother like?" he asked eventually.

"Mattie?" Alfred's eyebrows rose.

"Yeah. He doesn't seem to like me too much."

"Really? That's weird, usually he's _super _nice. And really polite! You're right though, he's got a mean streak a mile wide. Well, not a mile. Maybe like a really covert mile, which you only find when you go down the wrong road and then suddenly BAM you're off the map and your GPS isn't working and you're about to run out of gas and everything is terrifying. Other than that, though, he really is the nicest guy ever."

Alfred continued to ramble about how great his brother was for close to half an hour. At this point they were just walking up and down Main, until Lovino was struck by an idea and led them to a secondhand store. Alfred was apparently in a good mood, so it couldn't hurt to try this now.

At Alfred's questioning look, Lovino told him, "Christmas shopping. Keep going." So Alfred followed him around the racks, detailing one particularly disastrous exploit the two of them had got up to when they were kids, although he wasn't specific about whose care they were in at the time.

He had launched into another anecdote when Lovino found it: a beat-up but very warm-looking bomber jacket. Perfect. He paid for it, declined a bag, and they exited the store plus one jacket. Lovino, of course, was already wearing one. This fact seemed to occur to Alfred just as they stepped out, because he trailed off and stared at it speculatively. Lovino held it out to him, and before he could protest, said "Merry Christmas."

"Uh, Christmas is still almost two weeks away."

"It's an early present. Might as well use it while we're out; it's goddamned freezing out here."

"But..."

"You just saw me buy it, Alfred. It was fifteen dollars."

He hesitated only a moment more before taking it and shrugging it on.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He stared at Alfred, finally wearing a fucking jacket, and felt his face crumple. He'd finally managed to _do _something besides screw up.

"Wha-? Lovi, what's wrong?"

Lovino gasped in a breath of cold air. "I thought you'd be mad at me," his voice trembled as he said it, "for yesterday."

"Oh." Alfred shifted. "I'm sorry I just left like that. I _was _mad, but I couldn't stay that way. I mean, I missed you a lot while I was gone and, and I think you were right, that I should have told him."

Lovino shuddered, from some combination of cold and the surge of relief coursing through him. Alfred drew him in for a hug, and Lovino could feel he was already warming up and he was so _grateful_ that Alfred had accepted the jacket.

"I thought you wouldn't talk to me. Or that you would leave again," he confided, almost in a whisper.

Alfred kissed the top of his head. "I promise I won't disappear on you anymore. Okay?"

Lovino nodded, and they stood on the sidewalk and for the first time in a while he felt like everything would be okay.

* * *

By the time they got around to walking back to campus, it was getting dark.

"I always forget how early it gets dark in the winter," Lovino grumbled. He was slightly annoyed with the sun for setting so fast, but on the other hand, Alfred had an arm wrapped around his shoulders and it was pleasantly warm and comfortable.

Alfred grinned. "Yeah well aren't you-wait, what's going on over there?"

Lovino looked over and spotted a small group of four standing on the corner. There was no one else around in the area, so they stood out as rather suspicious. He squinted, recognized them, and hissed, "Shit." They were some frat boys, and unfortunately Lovino was familiar with them. "Let's go," he told Alfred.

"What're they doing?"

"Who knows, but I really think we should go."

Alfred gave him a questioning look, just as one of the boys spotted them and called out, "Hey, if it isn't little Vargas. Oh, and is that his new boyfriend?" The group started snickering.

Alfred's hold tightened protectively. "You guys got something to say?"

"Alfred," Lovino protested, but there was a stubborn set to Alfred's jaw and a threatening gleam in his eye.

"Yeah, just thought you should know you're dating a fucking slut."

"Excuse me?" Alfred growled. He gently pushed Lovino back and stalked forward. He was radiating dangerous intent, but the frats were either stupid or uncaring. Lovino hung back, nervous. If something happened...

Alfred said something to them, quietly so Lovino couldn't hear, but the boys just laughed and responded loudly, "Yeah right, like we're gonna stoop to talking to that whore."

Alfred's response was a solid punch to the face of their spokesperson, and it descended into chaos from there.

Lovino stepped forward but retreated again, torn. He couldn't get into another fight, not if he didn't want to get expelled, but he couldn't just leave Alfred to deal with these guys alone.

Alfred seemed to be holding his own, though, until suddenly he froze, staring at something a few feet away. Or was that a some_one_? Whatever or whoever the figure was, they were hidden in shadows. The boys took advantage of Alfred's distraction, getting a few solid blows in that made Lovino wince. Alfred seemed to shake it off, though, and returned their hits with a roar.

Despite that, Lovino couldn't help but feel ashamed because here Alfred was, fighting his battles for him, _getting hurt_ for him, while he just stood there. He' had just decided to join the fray when Alfred caught his eye between punches and yelled, "Stay back, you'll get in trouble with the school," and _how the hell did Alfred know about that_?

"It doesn't matter what he does, we'll say he was involved anyway," one of the guys sneered, wiping at a bloody mouth. "Maybe this time you'll actually get expelled, huh Vargas? Or will it be special treatment for grandpa's boy again?"

Lovino clenched his fists but Alfred beat him to replying. He slammed his hands into the speaker's shoulders, lifted him up off the ground and shook him. "You say anything, and I'll tell the dean what you were out here doing."

They all paled noticeably. "We weren't doing anything," one protested weakly.

"Pretty serious drugs to have on campus," Alfred continued. "Possession of what you've been buying will end up getting you sent to jail, not just expelled." He dropped him.

"Jesus!" the guy spat, scrambling to his feet. The group backed up, away from them and the shadowy onlooker. "We'll keep quiet." And they scrambled away.

"Yeah I thought so," Alfred muttered. He jogged back over to Lovino and grabbed his elbow, steering him away and towards campus hastily. Lovino craned his head to get a look back, but the other person seemed to have vanished.

"Who was-? How did you know what they were buying? Shit, Alfred, you're covered in blood _again_."

"Lovino, _come on_," Alfred pleaded. "_Per favore_."

Lovino started at the switch, but allowed himself to be hustled back to the dorm.

Luckily Feliciano was out again, and he could clean Alfred up in peace.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked. "What the _fuck_?"

Alfred pushed his hands away. "Lovi, I gotta go."

"Go _where_?" he demanded. "Alfred, who was that? Are you in trouble?"

Alfred shook his head, but he looked troubled. "It's nothing, Lovi, I just gotta go."

"But-"

Alfred stood up, winced, but quickly turned it into a smile. "You'll see me tomorrow, okay?"

Lovino's shoulders slumped. "I'd better," he said. "You promised."

But the next day, Alfred had disappeared again.

* * *

**Thanks for sticking with me guys!**

Catholic translations! For those of you who were not forced to go to church as children.

-Some of the duties of an altar server that Lovino goes through here include: carrying in the cross (it's on top of a long stick) at the front of the processional, which is when the priest goes up to the altar. He also holds open the Bible in front of the priest when he reads the opening prayer from it, after the Gloria is sung.

-The nave is just the part of the church where the pews are.

-The Homily is the talk/lecture/speech the priest gives after the day's Scripture reading.

-The Church (Catholic and I believe Protestant churches, too) has different "liturgical seasons." When nothing special is going on it's called "Ordinary Time." Advent season comes before Christmas, in preparation for Christ being born. It's a very happy, anticipatory time of year. On the other hand, Lent is the forty days before Easter where Jesus dying for the sins of humanity is mourned, so it's very gloomy and they talk about how horrible humans are a lot. But then Easter season comes and it's happy again. (Fun fact: the seasons have colors! The priest wears robes of the color, and sometimes the Church is decorated with tapestries in that color. Ordinary time is green, Easter and Christmas are white, and Lent and Advent are purple. On certain days red, black, or gold are used.)

-Another fun fact, Mexico is the second-most Catholic country in the world, following Brazil. Austria is in fact much more Catholic than Lutheran nowadays, but for the sake of the story he remained Protestant.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N**: Wellllll. This took four months, and the majority of it was written today when I was struck with divine inspiration. This story will be three years old soon...but there's only 2-3 chapters left, so I guess on the bright side it won't hit four years before I finish it? You guys are the best, though.

**In this chapter, we have:**

-cop!Netherlands, with a quickly Googled human name

-some basic French pleasantries (how are you? I'm fine and you?)

-Spain being a cutie

-one Italian pickup line you may recognize from **chapter 5**

-a possibly true story about some underwear but I won't say whose

-no beta, as usual, so tell me if you spot some glaring error

* * *

**TALA 10**

He didn't know whether to tell anyone that Alfred had vanished. Maybe he'd just been lying when he'd promised not to disappear. Maybe he'd known he wouldn't stick around, and had just said that to make him worry, to get back at Lovino for spilling his secret.

No. This was _Alfred._

He hunched over his astronomy notes, doodling stars and black holes in the margins. The quiet library was supposed to be helping him concentrate on studying for finals. But now Alfred and the library were inextricably linked in his mind.

Two days, he mused. If this were a normal case that would be long enough to file a missing person report. But what would he tell the police? Oh yeah, my homeless friend _promised _I'd see him tomorrow. His parents? Well—No, I don't know where he usually goes. No, he wouldn't just run off. I think. Yeah, I _am _the guy that beat up those boys last year, it's great that you remember that.

The police were a no-go unless it looked really desperate, he decided. His alternatives included telling Bonnefoy and Kirkland, though he didn't know what they could do. They'd probably want to go to the police. He could always ask Antonio for advice, but then there was a high probability he'd rat him out to Bonnefoy. Lorinataitis and Honda were out of the question. Feliciano...He got the feeling his brother would be sympathetic but insist there was nothing they could do.

_What about Williams?_ he wondered, tapping his pencil. It wasn't like his relationship with the guy could get any worse. And Alfred wasn't here to get mad at him about it. Would Williams go to his parents, though? The last they'd spoken, he'd been pretty upset to learn his adoptive parents knew about Alfred while he didn't. Maybe the family was still on the outs with each other. He could use that to his advantage. And Alfred had said his brother was made of tougher stuff than he looked. It would be nice to have some solid backup, provided Williams was willing to talk to him.

_Can't hurt to try._ He stuffed his notes in his bag and zipped it up. Just for a moment he allowed himself to let his fall back. He took a few deep breaths and stared up at the ceiling.

He could do this. He could.

* * *

As seemed to be the pattern with him, he didn't find Williams when he was actually looking. Instead, when he showed up at the language department the next day for his usual two hours of penitence (Wednesday, so Spanish today), he spotted Bonnefoy and Williams conversing quietly but intensely in the hall.

He stopped, considering. On the one hand, Williams was right there. On the other, so was Bonnefoy. In any case, he had to go past them to get to Antonio's office. He blew out a sigh and prepared to shove past. Predictably, Bonnefoy grabbed him.

"Monsieur Vargas! _Comment allez-vous_?"

Lovino tried to produce a polite smile, but it came out as a grimace. "_Bien, et vous?_"

Bonnefoy dropped his customary cheerful expression; he looked strange without it. "And how is Alfred?" he asked, not answering the pleasantry.

"He's also just fine, thank you. I need to get to Antonio's office, so if you don't mind?"  
The professor's eyebrows raised. "Since when have you called him by his first name?"

"Since I was a kid," he said, rolling his eyes. "I just try not to do it in front of you people. Now let me through, asshole."

"_You people_?" Bonnefoy mouthed to Williams, amusement returning to his face. His son didn't seem to share in his good humor, however.

"Let him by, Papa."

They shared a look, and Bonnefoy slowly let go of him. When they just continued staring at each other, silent, Lovino grumbled, "Weirdoes," and continued down the hall. Immediately whispered conversation started up behind him. When he turned the corner though, he felt a sharp tug on his sleeve and looked back to see Williams had caught up with him.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Are you done talking to your dad?"

As if in response, he heard the door to Bonnefoy's office slam.

"We're done," Williams told him with a tight smile. "I actually just wanted to thank you," he continued. The smile turned genuine. "Um, Alfred came to see me on Saturday night. Well, more like Sunday morning. I thought he was a burglar at first and almost attacked him with a hockey stick."

Lovino snorted.

"Yeah. He said he'd been talking to you, and that you'd convinced him he needed to come clean to me. And he apologized for keeping it a secret."

"He did?" Lovino asked, startled. That had been the night they went stargazing. And then...Alfred had showed up the next morning for Mass, not mad at him anymore.

"Yeah, and he never apologized for anything when we were kids," Williams said, misinterpreting his surprise. "My parents, on the other hand, are convinced they did what was best for my peace of mind."

Lovino shook his head. "Assholes."

"No kidding," Williams agreed. "And I know we started off on the wrong foot, and that was my fault—"

"Not really," Lovino protested. "I was the one being an asshole then. I assumed you knew and just didn't care."

Williams eyed him with an odd expression. "If I'd known, I would have been looking after him. But it seems like you were doing that for me, so thank you."

Lovino's breath caught. "Yeah, well, don't thank me yet, because I haven't been doing such a great job of it," he replied, voice suddenly thick.

Williams put a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?"

"I haven't seen him since Sunday night. I know that doesn't sound like a long time but—"

He only realized his voice was rising when Williams squeezed his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, just keep calm." His words were soothing, but his expression was serious. "Al made it seem like you see each other practically every day. He's never done something like this before though?"

Lovino tried to take calming breaths, but his voice still wavered when he answered, "Only the once; he was gone for two weeks, and he showed up at my dorm on Saturday bruised and bleeding. I think he got into a bad fight that time, and then on Sunday he got into another fight while I was there. That was with some students, but he recognized this one guy—it sounded like he was a drug dealer or something. I didn't get a good look at him. I don't know if it's related to the other time he was missing or not."

Williams took this in, chewing at his bottom lip. "Dammit Al, what've you gotten yourself into this time?" he said to himself quietly.

"It's just—" Lovino hesitated, because this seemed too important to share but also too important to keep to himself. "He promised me he wouldn't disappear again."

Williams frowned. "Alfred's kind of like our parents in some ways. When we were kids, he—he was known to lie if he thought it was for the 'greater good,' or whatever. That could mean anything from not getting caught to protecting someone's feelings. But he never used the word promise lightly."

Lovino squeezed his burning eyes shut. "I don't know what to do," he whispered.

"You haven't gone to the police?"

"I don't think that's an option for me," Lovino admitted. "Because of that fight."

"Uh, yeah, I'd heard some rumors about that."

Lovino grimaced.

"Which I may have passed on to Alfred."

Cue unimpressed look.

"I was still pretty angry at the time," Williams told him. "I'd been asking around about you and some guys told me—"

Lovino growled. He could guess who these "guys" were.

"—they told me some stuff about it, which Alfred very vehemently told me couldn't possibly be true, and that they probably deserved to have their asses kicked."

This startled a brief laugh out of him. "He would say that," he muttered, but quickly sobered. "Well, ignoring the gory details, there _was _a fight, and I'm not really on the local police's list of trustworthy people. Or your parents', for that matter."

Williams held up a finger as something occurred to him. "Actually, I have a friend on the force. I'm going to talk to him." He reached around in his pocket and grabbed a pen, then motioned for Lovino's hand.

He gave it to him rather bemusedly and watched him write down a phone number on the back. "How do you know a police officer, anyway?"

"Uh, just from around. Anyway, call me tonight and I'll tell you how it goes, okay?"

He nodded. "I'll do that."

"I'd call you instead," Williams explained sheepishly, "but Papa has this scary sense for whenever I get a new phone number."

Lovino huffed. "Of course he does." He paused. "So, we're not telling him? Or Kirkland?"

"Definitely not."

They nodded at each other.

At the far end of the hall, Antonio called out, "Romaaaaano? Where are you?"

"I'm late," Lovino rolled his eyes.

Matthew gave him a small smile. "I'll talk to you later," he said, and jogged away.

Lovino stared into space, thinking, until Antonio sidled up next to him.

"...is that a phone number on your hand?" he asked gleefully.

"_Don't start_."

"Fine, fine. So! How're exams going?"

He groaned. "Don't ask about that either."

Antonio linked an arm through his and started pulling him towards his office. "Okay, then let's talk about Christmas!"

Ah, shit.

"Well," he said, trying to sound casual, "I applied to stay in the dorm over the break."

Antonio froze. "What?" He sounded heartbroken already. Lovino braced himself for the possibility of tears. "Nooooo!" his supposedly adult companion wailed. "I want you and Feli to come stay with meeeee!"

"Drawing your vowels out doesn't really help make a case. And besides, Feli is still coming," he tried to protest.

"But it's not the same without both of you! It's _Christmas_!" Lovino ducked his head, mostly mortified by this display but also slightly pleased. "Alfred can come visit us if that's what you're worried about."

Lovino sputtered. "That's not the problem!"

That was totally the problem.

"I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to," the professor declared. "I'll—I'll follow you around everywhere and cry, and it will be very embarrassing."

Lovino tried to suppress a smile. "You can't be serious."

"Pleeeeeeease? Please please please please—"

"All right!" Lovino shouted. "Fine. _Dio_. I'll come home for break."

Antonio twirled in place and pulled him into a hug. He _was _crying, a little. "Thank you, Lovi!"

Lovino patted his back a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Let me sit around in your office for these two hours and it's a deal."

* * *

He called Matthew that night, while Feliciano was out on a date and he was debating how much he should pack for the upcoming break. All his police contact had told him was that a missing homeless kid wouldn't have much priority with the force, but he'd be on the lookout himself and keep them informed.

"Doesn't sound very helpful," Lovino grumbled, holding his cell in one hand and attempting to fold a shirt with the other.

"He's an understated sort of guy, but he's very capable," Matthew assured him.

"Hmmm."

"Hey Lovino...I was wondering, would you maybe want to hear some stories about Al as a kid?"

Lovino fumbled the shirt. "You wouldn't mind? Won't _he _mind?"

"Serves him right at this point," Matthew dismissed. "This is why you're not supposed to leave your date alone with family. They break out the embarrassing stories and baby pictures."

He thought briefly about denying the date thing, but decided it was too much effort. "In that case, I'd _love _to hear some."

* * *

Two days after Christmas, Friday night.

Lovino was sprawled over the couch at Antonio's place, Feliciano was near the fireplace, and for some reason Antonio was at the window, cackling to himself. It was really messing with his ability to doze off, so he made an annoyed noise.

"What're you doing over there, bastard? You're acting even more deranged than usual."

"The police are at Roderich's house!" Antonio informed them. "Maybe they're going to arrest him!"

Feliciano scurried over. "What?" He gasped. "Oh, there's a police car!"

"What're they doing?" Lovino asked, not moving from his position.

"Just sitting there," his brother told him. "The lights aren't even flashing."

"Weird." His cell phone went off. He pulled it off and frowned when he saw it was a local number, but not one he recognized.

"Yeah?" he answered it.

"...Lovino Vargas?" a gravelly voice came through.

"Who wants to know?"

He heard a sigh. "I'll take that as a yes. This is Officer Lars Morgens. Matt gave me your number, said if I couldn't reach him I should contact you. This is gonna sound weird, but I'm sitting outside the address listed in your police file. You're not in trouble or anything, but it's about this kid—"

"Kid?" he asked, sitting up as his heart leaped.

"Yeah," was the dry reply. "The one sitting in my back seat."

Lovino bolted off the couch and out the door. Roderich emerged from the house at the same time Morgens got out of the car.

"Vargas?" he asked.

Lovino nodded vigorously, and Morgens jerked his head towards the back.

"Is this officer here for you?" Roderich asked incredulously. "What on earth have you done now?"

"I'll deal with him," Morgens muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Lovino gave his uncle a cursory glare, yanked open the car door, and slid into the backseat.

Alfred blinked at him when he slammed the door shut. "Those don't open from the inside, you know. And you're not even wearing any shoes," he said disapprovingly. "It's 22 degrees outside, you should be wearing shoes."

"_You're _bleeding. Again," Lovino said disbelievingly.

"Officer Morgens thinks I have a mild concussion," Alfred said matter-of-factly, rubbing at the flaky blood on his forehead. "'M not supposed to go to sleep."

"Why aren't you at a hospital then?" he demanded, batting Alfred's hands away and keeping his own hovering over his bruised face, afraid to touch.

"Didn't wanna go. Wanted to come see you." Alfred grinned. "Hi Lovi."

"Hi idiot," he said flatly.

Alfred sighed. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, yeah you do." Finally he brought his hands to rest gently on either side of the idiot's face. "Well don't you look a mess," he murmured. His face was a mass of bruises and dried blood. It looked like his nose was broken. And that was just what he could see above the collar. He swallowed heavily. "Nice jacket, though."

"Thanks, 's very warm. Got it from my best friend." Alfred shifted closer across the seat, moving gingerly. Lovino bit his lip. When their sides were pressed together, Lovino let go of his battered face, and Alfred's head drooped until it was resting on top of his. He made a strange "cckk" noise, explaining, "My neck hurts," when Lovino twitched in response.

"Should go to a hospital," Lovino muttered.

Alfred made a vague disagreeing sound.

"...And _not go to sleep_," he said louder when Alfred was quiet for a minute.

He got a throaty groan as an answer.

Lovino waited for a bit. "Hey, I need to ask you something."

"Mmm?"

"Did you really leave your underwear in the bathroom of a church when you were living with the Joneses?"

Alfred jerked up. "Oh God you've been talking to Mattie. _Oh my God_. I told him that in strictest confidence!"

Lovino started snickering.

"_I'm going to kill him_."

"Sounds like you were a bit of an excitable kid."

Still grumbling, Alfred leaned against him again. He drew in a sharp breath through his nose, reminding Lovino he was still in pain and cutting his laughter short.

"Hey," Alfred said. "I thought about you a lot while I was gone." He pressed his nose into the side of Lovino's head near his ear, almost nuzzling. Moment of lucidity apparently over.

Lovino blinked rapidly, staring straight ahead. "Well. You were gone for almost three weeks. I would hope you'd miss your best friend at least a little."

"A lot," Alfred confirmed. "Tried really hard to get back to you, I promise."

"Not much of a promise."

"Sorry," Alfred said softly. "Sorry, sorry."

"You owe me an explanation, I think."

Alfred hesitated. "Okay," he agreed. "Now?"

Lovino scoffed. "How about when you don't have a concussion?"

"'Kay. Later." He wriggled a bit. "Really did think about you."

"Oh?" he asked, finding Alfred's hand and linking their fingers.

"_Posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi?_"

Lovino turned red, and swore he could feel Alfred smiling.

"I really like you, Lovi," the beat-up teen murmured. "Really really like you."

"Once again, I think this is a conversation better suited for people who don't have concussions."

"Right," he agreed. "Too important. Deal with head injuries first." He sighed heavily and sagged against him. "I'm really tired, though," he said, as though confiding a secret.

_Me, too_ Lovino wanted to tell him, but didn't. Instead he tried to be as solid as possible, a human pillar of support. Even as he wanted to crumble himself. He could hear Roderich squabbling with Antonio outside. There was a rather large bloodstain on the sleeve of the jacket he'd bought for Alfred.

Alfred, who said he really liked him.

He didn't think he could deal with something like this again.

* * *

**A/N**: My notes say that I was originally planning on ending this chapter with something happy. Oh well. In case anyone is confused by the timeline (maybe just me? consequences of leaving this for so long): assuming Thanksgiving was the second to last week of November, Alfred went missing the first time a week later. He stayed gone for two weeks, came back for a weekend and disappeared right before finals week. Then there are two weeks of winter break before he shows back up again as seen here. So...basically he's been around for all of two days over a five week period.

Also the reason Matthew knows Lars is totally because he's his dealer.

Next time! We finally get to Alfred's tragic backstory and whatnot.

Thanks for reading! ~AoNoShi

((_You're in a car with a beautiful boy_))


End file.
